Sermon: Creating a Picture from a Whirlamajig
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The paint was a rich brown with tones
of red. The brush was wide and held
the paint along the nylon tips
without a drip.
The wood I painted had been done
before, but years ago, and not
done very well. The wood had split
exposing ugliness.
The wet paint spread and filled the holes.
The boards soon showed no trace of sin.
I woke, but forced myself to sleep
some more–to paint again.
– Steve Shoemaker, Urbana, IL, March 15, 2014