All my life people have referred to me as an "artist". I never really considered that to be the case. I'd have to be much better at the craft to call myself by that title. I was just a guy who liked to draw and sometimes entertain using art. At 66 years of age I still like to draw and entertain. I'm still not an artist. I dabble in caricatures and learning new things, but that's about it.
When I was in high school I had a teacher named B.A. Morgan who was what I would call a real artist. Then there was another teacher, Butch Wills. He was pretty good, too. Mr. Wills gave me my first paddling in high school! That's another story for another time.
There were also several students I watched and was intrigued by as they drew and painted, but the best one I ever knew was a young red haired girl named Helen Lowrey. Lawd have mercy, that girl was talented beyond measure! By our sophomore year she was so far above even the teacher that it was flat out amazing. I wonder what ever became of Helen? Our sophomore year we were fast approaching the East Texas Yamboree art contest and I had painted a bald eagle that I was pretty proud of. Helen, of course, had a painting ready to go as well. It was a seascape done in acrylics. I remember looking at it thinking, "Wow. We are all trying for second place."
Then it happened. Overnight there was a fire in the art room. I don't remember if they ever determined where it started, but it burned up all the entries we had for the Yamboree contest.
That was the same school year my dad passed away from cancer. Quickly. Unexpectedly. Gone, leaving a hole in my life. I tried filling the hole with school work, art work, even my part time job at the local grocery store. I loved that job. It helped the most. Unfortunately, all good things come to an end. So it was with my job at Gray's Grocery. I went to work for the summer at a Christian youth camp I had attended years before. It was something I needed right then. That summer I fell in love with Camp Deer Run and I fell in love with God. I realized that He was the only thing that could truly fill the hole in my heart. Here I am, some 59 years later, still loving that magical place we simply call "CDR". I even met the girl I would later marry there at camp! Tell me God ain't good!
That summer I learned a lot about life. Mostly I learned that God is in control, no matter what. I am convinced that that summer at camp is what gave me what I needed to move on with life without my dad. It wasn't easy, but it was possible.
Just as Helen was the best artist I ever met, God is the greatest healer I have ever come across, bar none. She entertained me. He sustains me! I look around at His handiwork and see the greatest artist and craftsman imaginable. More than that, I see the God who pushed me to make it when I wanted to give up. I wanted to crawl into a hole and just stay there. That's just a part of life, not the whole of life. He is the whole of life. The creative genius behind the universe. The artist of life.