The Writing on The Wall

My wall looked like the tiger version of Elmer the elephant. Multicolored, artsy and happy, well, at least the painters and artists were happy.


Ky woke up one day, she started singing along to songs and holding a crayon or pen like a seasoned artist. Her favorite thing to do is draw and color, while Miss K could paint with her eyes closed.

They enjoy expressing themselves through art, while Ksena caught on the fact that art is for paper, Ky is taking a little longer to understand why we need to use an A3 paper instead of the blank canvases all around the house.

While this would have made me upset a few years ago, I extend more grace now. I actually enjoy trying to decipher what their works of art are. Sometimes I see one thing, and they see something else. But their joy and confidence beam from the inside.

Instead of looking at the writing on the wall as a sheer inconvenience and something to be upset about, I look at it as a reminder of grace, that God looked at my sin, and paid the price for me. God’s grace over my life humbles me when I feel impatient, and irritable I pray that the Lord will remind me of His grace, that I may pass it on. He is not patient with me because I am deserving, He is patient with me because He loves me. And love, grace, and patience are like a three stand chord, they must work together.

There is always room for grace

And just so the record is straight, the writing on the wall skills could actually be genetic. I was an artist who drew on my mama’s walls. Her wallpaper flowers always had spots and checked lines. Most times it was just a massive doodle, on or under the wallpaper. She was not always smiling when she saw my drawings and wondered why I had ignored all of the drawing pads at my disposal.

But Grace!

It was extended to me, and now I can extend to others around me.

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