II Corinthians 3:17
Original Mixed Media, 36″ x 30″
We can spend a lot of energy creating masks—how we want to be perceived in social settings, in the media, at church, at work, etc. The struggle is being the same person in public as we are in private, which sometimes entails coming out of the darkness into the light.
When a crow dies a visitation ensues from the community of crows. Groups of ten to fifteen at a time will inspect the area to see why this crow died. Before they depart they will often leave small sticks or other objects around the body as a memorial.
These two crows unmask a married couple who have begun to live a life worth living—a life where they are transparent before God, each other, and a community of friends who can love and challenge them. They have begun to die to their selfish desires and live for God and others.
It’s only within the safety of knowing we are forgiven by God that we can freely grow. Through the years I have been surrounded by people who have modeled to me what it looks like to be a transparent train-wreck, transformed by the grace of God. Slowly the masks are falling away and the weight of being found out begins to lose its powerful grip.
Thomas Merton wonderfully shows us a glimpse of an honest dialogue with God:
“My Lord God, I have no idea where I am going. I do not see the road ahead of me. I cannot know for certain where it will end. Nor do I really know myself, and the fact that I think that I am following your will does not mean that I am actually doing so. But I believe that the desire to please you does in fact please you. And I hope I have that desire in all that I am doing. I hope that I will never do anything apart from that desire. And I know that if I do this you will lead me by the right road, though I may know nothing about it. Therefore will I trust you always, though I may seem to be lost and in the shadow of death. I will not fear, for you are ever with me, and you will never leave me to face my perils alone.”