Tag: arts

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Reflections / Devotionals

How to Cultivate a Sense of Wonder: Watch the Experts

LeAnne Martin

September 19, 2019 5:08 am September 19, 2019

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“Look, Daddy, there’s a plane!” cried a little voice several rows behind me. We were actually on a plane, settling in before takeoff, and apparently the little person in back…

“Look, Daddy, there’s a plane!” cried a little voice several rows behind me.

We were actually on a plane, settling in before takeoff, and apparently the little person in back was sitting in a window seat .

“Look, there’s another one!” he said a minute later, his delight making his voice carry through the cabin. I heard a few snickers from fellow passengers, while his father spoke to him softly.

As we started taxiing, the little boy cried, “There’s another one! And another one!”

He went on and on, pointing out every plane he saw on the ride to the runway and a few he made up along the way. Finally, he erupted into a fit of giggles and asked for some juice.

In my late 20s at the time, I’d been on enough planes that any delight I may felt about them had worn off long before. But his excitement made me and several other people smile.

How long had it been since any of us had felt a similar sense of wonder?

The Power of Ice Cream

Today that little boy would be roughly the same age as I was back then. Does he remember his excitement that morning? Maybe, maybe not. Maybe now he has his own little boy or girl to exclaim over airplanes.

Children are ambassadors of wonder. One of their jobs seems to be to spread that sense of wonder everywhere they go. They are experts at it, and they take unabashed delight in it.

Everything is new to them.

A few days ago, my husband and I went to the neighborhood ice cream shop. As soon as you walk in, you smell the sugar from the cones that are constantly baking. And when you walk out, you carry that smell with you.

We should know; we go there more often than we should. As someone well into middle age, I sometimes feel guilty about that. But when I take that first bite of chocolate ice cream with peanut butter buckeyes, I get over it.

As we stood in line, I noticed a small boy in a blue shirt and shorts, probably less than a year old, sitting in his daddy’s arms. The man held a small cone with a scoop of vanilla that he was sharing with his son. Every few minutes, the little boy would lean over for a lick of ice cream and then laugh with delight.

As I watched, I laughed with him. He saw me, and we waved at each other. He leaned over for me to take him, but his daddy held on.

Smiling at both of them, I said, “It’s good, isn’t it? I always laugh when I get ice cream, too.”

I’m guessing that it wasn’t just the sweet and delicious taste of the ice cream that he loved but also the cold shock on his tongue on a sizzling summer day. I think it was also the love of his father, the security of his arms, and the moment of joy between them. A moment that I got to share too.

Grown Up?

Children see and appreciate things we don’t. Oh, we did once, when we were their age, but then we grew up and became sophisticated, cynical, crazy busy, stressed out, tired, and bored. We have learned the science behind airplanes, the health risks of too much ice cream, and the troubles of life that quell laughter and delight.

Yet we live in a world with luna moths, waterfalls, Labrador Retrievers, peonies, whales, cacti, flamingos, volcanos, coconuts, glaciers, tomatoes, hedgehogs, glowfish—and human beings who all bear the image of God.

We are surrounded by beauty, color, variety, and order in both the seen and the unseen, all of it provided by a loving Father who freely shares his good and beautiful gifts with the world. These gifts point to him, teach us about him, and even invite us to enjoy him. But when you’re as advanced as we think we are, it can all seem ho-hum and hum-drum.

We are perhaps too grown up to open up to wonder.

Fresh Eyes

My friend Crystal has three grandchildren who are all about a year old. She sent me videos of them chasing bubbles and splashing in puddles. They are barely walking, flat-footed and awkward in their sandals, but they are laughing with joy and so are the adults around them. “Children bring fresh eyes to everything,” she says.

It wasn’t many years ago when Crystal’s four sons were jumping in puddles themselves. One time, their family visited a new park, and bursting with excitement, the boys ran from one thing to another, exploring and discovering before going on to something else. They could hardly take it all in.

Then Jordan cried, “Mommy, we’ve never been in this world before!“

One day, those of us who know Jesus will be filled with wonder the depth of which we have never known. Our Father will be sharing delights with us that are far beyond what we can imagine. And we might find ourselves laughing with joy and surprise when we realize that we had glimpses of that world here in this one, all around us, right now.

Freelance writer and speaker LeAnne Martin looks for the beauty around us and encourages others to do the same. Through her words and pictures, she shares glimpses of beauty in nature, the arts, and the unexpected on her blog, Glimsen. Sign up to receive her weekly posts, and you’ll get a free gift of beauty in your inbox. You can also connect with LeAnne on Facebook, Instagram, and Pinterest. LeAnne lives with her husband in a wooded neighborhood outside Atlanta and looks forward to her next FaceTime with her daughter in college.

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Reflections / Devotionals

The Art of Mary Cassatt: More than Meets the Eye

LeAnne Martin

July 24, 2019 9:14 pm July 24, 2019

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The woman sits with her arm draped over the back of the chair, the golden threads in the sleeves of her dress shimmering underneath a swath of white tulle. The…

The woman sits with her arm draped over the back of the chair, the golden threads in the sleeves of her dress shimmering underneath a swath of white tulle. The front of her dress is white and blue with a matching flower pinned to the bodice. Standing beside her is a little girl in orange with a bow in her short, blond hair. They are both holding and looking intently at the book in their hands. It’s as though we are sitting in a chair a few feet away, but they have forgotten we are here.

The painting is entitled “The Reading Lesson” by American Impressionist Mary Cassatt. I saw it and took this photo at the Dallas Museum of Art in June 2018. My husband had been on a business trip in Dallas that week, and I’d joined him for the weekend. We spent several hours exploring the museum.

Ever since my college art appreciation class, Mary Cassatt (1844-1926) has been one of my favorite artists. Not only was she one of just three women who exhibited with French Impressionists like Degas and Monet, she was also the only American.

Her paintings often depict intimate scenes from domestic life, showing women seated with and caring for children. Cassatt’s gift of painting lent not only an air of beauty to the scenes she painted but also an air of dignity. That an artist of her caliber would paint the seemingly mundane, ordinary dailiness of home life and raising children elevated those activities in the minds of viewers.

It gave women an opportunity to see themselves and their lives in her art, something perhaps they hadn’t had before. It infused the moments of motherhood with a beauty that is often hard to appreciate when you’re in the middle of them.

Moments with Mary

Years ago, when I was pregnant, a friend gave me a gift that I treasured: A Child’s Book of Lullabies, With Paintings by Mary Cassatt. It’s a tall, thin book with songs like “Twinkle, Twinkle, Little Star” and “Rock-A-Bye, Baby” and paintings on every spread. The art shows mothers with babies and toddlers, feeding, bathing, and holding and cuddling them.

Three years later, between loads of laundry, I would sit on the floor of my little girl’s bedroom and pull out the book. She would stop playing, climb in my lap, and listen. I would show her the paintings, sing the songs, and talk about them with her.

As a newly-divorced single mom, my primary focus was my little girl, and I was profoundly grateful to God for her. Having her helped ground me, shift my focus to someone else (her), and remind me that Jesus would bring beauty out of pain. He gave me the vision to see that those moments with her held meaning that I might have missed otherwise.

The Stuff of Life

Did every minute with my daughter shine like a precious jewel? Not at all. I was often impatient, cranky, tired, stressed, and overwhelmed. When the laundry piled up and the dogs barked incessantly, when it was time to make dinner and one of us was having a meltdown, I wasn’t thinking about meaningful moments. I was just thinking about making it to bedtime—hers and mine.

There were other days that seemed long and monotonous, when the clock ticked slowly, our routine was too routine, and the lullabies worked better on me than her.

Most of us tend to think that daily life is boring and ordinary. We can be lulled to sleep by a sense of the dullness of routine. For you, it might be the commute to work, the weekly staff meeting, emails you have to return, errands to run. For me, it’s work and email, cooking and grocery shopping.

These are the things that make up daily life, though, and if we aren’t careful, we can drift along without noticing that life is passing by.

Longing for More

In a fast-paced, fractured world, we long for moments of meaning. Art can remind us to look for them, by showing that something as simple as a reading lesson can be loaded with beauty.

When we recognize those special moments, we sense a transcendent, timeless quality that we don’t want to end. We can’t hold onto them, but we can be sure that God is there with us—when the mundane becomes meaningful and the ordinary, extraordinary.

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Reflections / Devotionals

Seeking Beauty

LeAnne Martin

June 27, 2019 10:11 pm June 27, 2019

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5 min read

“We do not want merely to see beauty, though, God knows, even that is bounty enough. We want something else which can hardly be put into words—to be united with the beauty…

“We do not want merely to see beauty, though, God knows, even that is bounty enough. We want something else which can hardly be put into words—to be united with the beauty we see, to pass into it, to receive it into ourselves, to bathe in it, to become part of it.” C. S. Lewis, The Weight of Glory

A Saturday night in the middle of summer, and I was at home working upstairs. My little girl was with her dad, so it was just me and my two Labs. My desk showed evidence of an impending article deadline: pages of research, paper clips, several uncapped pens, and a glass of water that needed refilling.

My office windows faced the street, and from my desk chair, I had a great view of the sky. As I paused to come up with just the right word, I looked out the window. And I saw the beginnings of a masterpiece.

Grabbing my sandals, I ran down the stairs, rousing the dogs from their pre-bedtime nap, and flew out the front door. Cutting across the yard, I kept my eyes trained on the sky as the pinks and oranges gradually grew more vivid. Excited, I looked around to see if any of my neighbors were outside too, but I was the only one watching the wonder unfold. It was a gift for me.

Glancing down at my arms, I was surprised by what I saw: the light from the beauty above had covered me in pink. It was like being in a waterfall with no water, only color.

And in that moment, I worshipped—not the sky or the sunset but the one who created them. God’s presence with me under his handiwork brought me great comfort, and the beauty filled me with both joy and a longing for more.

Awake, My Soul

That sunset is one of the highlights of a difficult time in my life. My marriage had ended, and I was now a single mom of a preschooler. During those dark days, God used many things to bring me light, starting with himself and scripture. In addition, my daughter filled my days with life, laughter, and fun. Family and friends stepped in and loved me with words and actions. My dogs adored us and protected us by barking at every visitor with great enthusiasm.

During that time, I read a book entitled Awake My Soul by Timothy Jones. I realized that in the years before the divorce, I’d been lulled into drifting through life, especially as a new mom, moving from one thing to the next and just looking forward to a whole night’s sleep.

It took the shock of my life turning upside down to be reawakened, to be reminded of what I already knew as a follower of Jesus: that there is more to this life than what we see. Life is filled with meaning and purpose, and our longing for these and other things like beauty, goodness, and truth, find their fulfillment in him.

So I asked an artist friend to climb a ladder up to the ceiling in my room and paint the words “Awake, my soul” over my bed. Every morning when I opened my eyes, I’d see that spiritual reminder to help me guard against being lulled to sleep again.

Wide-Eyed

As I woke again to God’s goodness and presence in my life and began to heal, the sun came out. I began to see and respond to the beauty around me, starting with my neighbor’s crabapple tree and the bright yellow jessamine vine climbing on my mailbox.

I sought out beauty in art museums, the symphony, and the theater. Books like C. S. Lewis’ Surprised by Joy and The Weight of Glory and Ken Gire’s Windows of the Soul affirmed and spurred me on.

A few years later, I met a man who also appreciated beauty, art, theater, the symphony, and C. S. Lewis. Most important, he loved Jesus, and he loved my daughter and me. We married a year later.

I’ve been writing about beauty now for years, most recently on my blog at glimsen.net, where I share glimpses of the beauty around us in nature, the arts, and the unexpected. When I tell people about my blog, most of them look puzzled. Why beauty?

And I think about that summer night when a sunset covered me in beauty … and I begin to tell them.

Freelance writer, speaker, and blogger LeAnne Martin looks for the beauty around us and encourages others to do the same. Through her words and pictures, she shares glimpses of beauty in nature, the arts, and the unexpected on her blog, Glimsen. Sign up to receive her weekly posts, and you’ll get a free gift of beauty in your inbox. You can also connect with LeAnne on Facebook, Instagram, and Pinterest. LeAnne lives with her husband in a wooded neighborhood outside Atlanta and looks forward to her next FaceTime with her daughter in college.

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