I’ve been thinking a lot about grace lately.
Not the kind of grace that comes when everything is going according to plan. That’s easy.
I’m talking about the kind of grace we have to dig deep to find when life takes an unexpected turn. When the road ahead looks nothing like the one we imagined traveling.
My newest painting, Grace in the Moment, is part of my ongoing exploration of acceptance, surrender, and finding beauty right where I am.
And I’ll admit, some days I’m better at it than others.
The Winding Road of Acceptance
Life has a funny way of reminding us that we’re not always in charge.
We make plans. We have expectations. We imagine how things are supposed to unfold.
And then life happens. Last winter, my husband was diagnosed with both Alzheimer’s and Primary Progressive MS, but he’s had serious health issues long before that. Sometimes I meet those changes with an open heart and a willingness to embrace what is.
Other times?
Oh, hell to the no!
I’m still a work in progress.
But I’ve come to realize that acceptance doesn’t mean I have to like everything that’s happening. It doesn’t mean giving up hope or pretending that difficult things aren’t difficult.
It simply means acknowledging where I am without spending all my energy wishing I were somewhere else.
That’s where grace comes in.
Painting My Way Through
When I began painting Grace in the Moment, I wasn’t interested in creating a perfectly manicured garden or a straight road leading to a predictable destination.
I wanted the landscape to feel alive. A little wild. Unstructured. Full of surprises.
The flowers grow wherever they please. Colors mingle and dance together. The path winds through the landscape, disappearing into the distance where the light promises something beautiful.
I used my palette knives to build thick layers of turquoise, lavender, pink, and gold, allowing the colors and textures to find their own way.
There’s something wonderfully freeing about that process.
I don’t have to control every stroke. In fact, I couldn’t if I tried! I respond to what’s happening on the canvas instead of forcing it into what I originally imagined.
Come to think of it, that’s a pretty good metaphor for life.
Right Here. Right Now.
One of the things I love most about this painting is the light.
It doesn’t illuminate the entire road. It simply offers enough brightness to invite us forward. The rest is a bit blurred. And that’s O.K.
Maybe that’s all we really need.
We don’t have to know what tomorrow will bring. We don’t have to solve every problem today. We don’t even have to feel positive every minute of every day.
We can be grateful and frustrated.
Hopeful and uncertain.
Strong and exhausted.
All at the same time.
There is room for all of it.
I’m learning that grace isn’t necessarily found at the end of the journey, when everything finally makes sense.
Sometimes it’s found in the middle of the mess.
In a quiet moment.
In a splash of color.
In a patch of sunlight.
In the simple act of noticing something beautiful when life feels anything but.
The Gift of Allowing
Perhaps the greatest lesson this painting has offered me is that I don’t have to wait for life to become easier before I allow myself to experience joy.
The flowers are blooming now.
The light is shining now.
There is beauty to be found now.
Even on the days when the road feels particularly difficult.
Grace in the Moment is my colorful reminder to stop fighting every unexpected turn, loosen my grip on how things are supposed to be, and appreciate what is good.
Right here.
Right now.
And if tomorrow I find myself back in my Oh, hell to the no! mode?
Well, I’ll give myself a little grace for that, too.
After all, acceptance is a practice, not a destination.
Here’s to finding grace in the moment, wherever life’s winding road may lead.
Grace in the Moment is part of my latest collection of colorful, impressionistic landscapes exploring acceptance, hope, and the beauty of life’s unexpected journey. Fine art prints and home decor featuring this painting are available through my Pixels.com gallery.
Drop me a line if you’d like to collect the beautiful original. Hey, it’s gluten-free!
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