Art

Jesus scribbled in the sand. No one knows what he drew or wrote, but everytime I read that passage I audibly groan in frustration because I want to know so desperately what the King of Kings bent down to write in the sands that day.
I wish I could be present there, just to peek over His shoulder and see. But, knowing Jesus, he would probably just be swirling his finger in the dirt to make squiggles and then He'd look up at me and laugh at the look of childish disappointment on my face. "Come on, Katie," He'd say, straightening up. "You're focusing too much on my drawing. That's not why it was drawn."
And then I'd look up, and see the entire situation: the Pharisees annoyed by Jesus's playing in the sand, the woman thrown into the dirt, the 10 words Jesus spoke so poignantly: "He who is without sin may cast the first stone." The words are what matter; the message is what matters. The drawing is just another utensil.
This morning, I realize that my mind and art needs to conform more to Jesus. It's all about the message, not the visible form.

Today is just glorious. What a beautiful God we have.