A Secret Message

Ever since receiving the torn sheet of paper, splotches of color, ocean-blue, pink, pale- green, scrawled across one side, I knew it contained a secret message. Surveying my toddler granddaughter's handiwork, sent via snail-mail, I wondered at the marvel of oranges, bright yellows, daughter-in-law's courage, and the simplicity of it all. Tiny hands abandoned in exploration, play and composition. The carefully folded art-piece, sealed and stamped, visible proof the drawing meant more than a child's virgin attempts at creativity. So I waited. Prayer list magnified each day, doubt threatened to destroy faith, and friends and family who are trodding a thousand long days of trials I wanted to cry out, please stop. No more hardship. No more pain. No more crisis. Please. The other day, tracing fingers across picture on refrigerator, pausing to behold, a discovery rifled down to sacred space where questions and prayers remained unanswered, where thick layer of fog blanketed ebbing faith. I thought about what He was saying, not audible words, more of a hush, a stillness that calmed, soothed. Like a deep well stumbled across in the middle of a blistery hot desert, I drank discovery, guzzled all that He revealed, throat coated with damp grace. Could it be? Truly? Colors leaped, danced, those scribbles, disordered blotches of finger-paint, to a grandmother's eyes a beautiful work of art. A masterpiece. This missive, it came upon like a splendid rainbow after late afternoon rain, unexpected, surprisingly. The messy is my means to draw you out, shape and mold, craft you into the beautiful. I use everything to create the masterpiece I know you to be. Each stroke a manifesto, an authentic heartbeat, my omnipresence a guarantee of absolute security. Inhaling slowly, I placed the picture from my granddaughter back on refrigerator, one corner kept in place with  magnet that says "Cherish." Jeanne Zornes said : "God often delays His response out of love, as He works all things together for good." Humbly, I sighed into morning kitchen as I understood, He is right here, in the past, in the future, always, always, drawing with His strong daddy hands, a masterpiece, crafting beautiful from the messy, the hard, and the pain.