A problem has arisen recently, though, as the girls have started wanting to finish my pictures for me. I know this sounds trite. But, imagine… in typical Type-A, performance-oriented fashion, I’ve just spent 30 minutes working diligently and carefully on a very detailed picture of the Berenstein Bears going on a road trip. I’ve even colored Papa Bear’s plaid shirt with three different shades of blue. I’m admittedly feeling pretty proud of my work. And, then, the Preschooler {who has finished at least three pages during the time it has taken me to get this far on one} comes and stands over my shoulder and whispers innocently, “Oh, Mommy, you’re doing a good job. Can I finish it for you?”
Oh, the inner conflict.
What I really want to say is, “No, no you can’t finish it. You see it’s almost done, and it’s taken me all this time to work on it. And, your mother really needs to finish this picture. You go back to your pages and just let me deal with mine.” … But, of course, what I know I must say is, “Sure, you can.”
And, with that, I scoot over in my chair, entrust my flimsy but significant piece of art to a 4-year old and watch her ruin my potential masterpiece make it into “our” coloring.
Well, this happened to me again yesterday when I was working on a page from our Penguins of Madagascar coloring book. Only this time the Toddler was the one who wanted to finish the project. And, let me just tell you, she can do some serious damage to a coloring page in no time flat.
But, yesterday, this random thought occurred to me related to my ridiculous desire to keep my coloring pages to myself…
I wonder how God feels about his masterpieces that I want to take over or at least “help” him to complete. I think about all the things he has created so perfectly, so beautifully, and yet, I beg to add a little touch of my own to them, too. I think about creation itself… my children… my marriage… and even something as simple as each day. He has worked to make all of these things perfect, bursting with life and color and potential. They are his handiwork.
But, here’s where his ways are different. Rather than even waiting on me to ask, he invites me to pick up a crayon, come alongside him and finish the work with him.
Of course, he knows I’m a little sloppy, and I’m bound to get out of the lines here and there and use the wrong color in places. I’m careless and immature. But, none of that matters to him because he’s more interested in the partnership than the perfection of the project. In fact, he even sees more beauty in it this way because, in the end, we have made something together. We have co-labored. And, that’s what makes it special.
I think it’s possible that God even delights in co-creating artwork with us. He says, before Lowe’s ever thought of it… “Let’s build something together.”
And, so, with that thought I was a bit humbled. Maybe my pride about my advanced crayon-coloring skills needed a little beat-down anyway…
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