MARCH 14, 2009 and APRIL 2009 – This article is a reprint from my old blog.
This past Christmas (2008), my mom and dad gave me this great photo album. As I took a little trip down memory lane, it was easy to see why I have such a passion to paint. When I first saw the album I was hoping it was already loaded. To my extreme delight – it was. They had scanned old family photos and newspaper articles. They included wonderful stories that need to be remembered not only by me but by my children and grandchildren.
I want to share some “evidence” of what I already knew. I used to wonder why I had no interest in nursing or bookkeeping. Why do I love to paint?
Well, it would seem that “it is in my blood”. This is a picture of my mom when she was a child.
My grandad painted this mural. I don’t have any photos of him painting anything. But, I know that he was also a sign painter. He would very carefully letter on glass doors and office windows and then very carefully (while the paint was still wet) blow very fine gold powder onto the letters creating very elegant and impressive lettering. He would sign his work “Venable, of course!” Check out the panties on my momma. Probably made of sugar sacks.
I love this picture. My mom is keeping my dad company while he paints a landscape on the panels of the truck. I remember him painting on lots of things. There was an old car that had a rounded trunk. The trunk had a dent in it and he painted a landscape with a waterfall. The waterfall tumbled right over that dent. When I look at this photo of my dad, I can see my brother and my middle son, Josh in him. It’s amazing. That’s me in the foreground.
And this is my grandma (dad’s mom). She started painting in her latter years. She painted beautiful seascapes. Her second husband, my step-grandad was also an artist. This one is not a seascape, obviously. I am not sure what she is working on in this photo but you can see from the easel board that this was not her first painting. She lived in California.
When I was 5 years old, I remember living there for a little while. Actually, what I remember is Disneyland. My parents were sidewalk artists at Disneyland.
They had some wonderful pieces. My mom still paints occasionally. Maybe this gives you a little insight about “why I love to paint”. I just can’t help it!!!
Here is Mom working on an old service station/store. It’s got to be in Texas. There are bluebonnets.
Here’s Dad working on the same painting. They share the canvas now. That is so precious to me. Daddy has always had an artistic flair. I remember him painting and donating countless signs for churches. My mom had an easel set up in our garage where she painted huge landscapes of majestic purple mountains, tall pines, and log cabins.Daddy actually went to school and received art training. I think that he is the only one in this family of artists that has an art education.
As you can see, he is wearing magnifying glasses. Daddy just celebrated his 82nd birthday (In March 2009, when this was post was first written). His eyesight is not what it used to be but that doesn’t stop him. He still creates and sells works of art. He and my mom are a great team, working together in so many ways.
One of the most precious things about my parents is that they
gave me the most awesome sense of what a relationship with
God is like. I have shared this with them before but it bears repeating.
As I looked through the album of old photos I was reminded once again what it was to be loved, accepted, and encouraged. Just like my Father God, they were and are interested and involved in every detail of my life. That is a welcome thing now but as a teenager I wasn’t quite so excited about them being so involved.
Looking back, I could see that we didn’t have a lot but I was never aware of any lack. Daddy always provided for us. And just like Father God, he was firm and fair in his discipline. He used to say, “This hurts me more that it does you.”
At the time, I didn’t believe that but now I know that was true. My relationship with my dad taught me the security of the love of God and also what it means to fear God. I am not afraid of God but I sure do not want to disappoint Him and I do not like trips to the “Holy Ghost woodshed”. Been there, done that.
I have also learned about the character and nature of God from my mom. She has taught me what unconditional love looks like and feels like. The times when I was and am so difficult to love, she continued. And she never gives up hoping and believing for God’s best for her children, her grandchildren, and her great grandchildren. What a blessing and great heritage they have given me. I pray that I have that same impact on my children and grandchildren
As it is written: “No eye has seen, no ear has heard, no mind has conceived what God has prepared for those who love him, but God has revealed it to us by his Spirit. The Spirit searches all things, even the deep things of God.1 Corinthians 2: 9-10
