What is that weird grungy material that cakes itself to crayons whenever they have lived a long happy life in a shoe box with other halves and nubs from the spectrum?  As a kid I don’t ever remember wondering; I would simply make that first, and usually “less pure” mark with my chosen waxy brilliance and move along the page.  This I believe is one of the truths that we sadly shed with Velcro shoes and dinosaur t-shirts.  As we grow into the glory lust of adulthood we start questioning the greasy flecks of impurity that attach to the many pieces of dazzle within our taped together “box” of life. We forget that under that thin layer of impurity is the gorgeous purpose and direction from the adventure of our life.  We spend so long looking at the dents and marks on all the crayons and stories in our box that we forget the joy of releasing their core. 

With all their dents, half wrappers, and dulled points, the crayons in my own box of life are an amazing collection.  As magical and wondrous as it sounds, growing up in Lubbock, Texas was more magnificent than all the places in the world.  As a child art was no more important to me than riding my bike through “dirt-devils”, gathering worms when we shucked corn, or the million other important things on a child’s list of to-dos.  The wonder of our couple of acres never ran dry.  I was gifted at art from an early age; not in the sense of ability, but in the fact that I was blessed to have a Mom that worked in the resource room of our church.  To a child, the benefits that accompanied such a position were priceless; endless boxes of half used crayons, partially dry markers, paper of all colors, and hundreds of those generic sandwich “church” cookies. 

While it may be in part to eating so many “church” cookies, as I grew larger so did my interest in art.  It was in college in Gunnison, Colorado where my art became more than something I mentioned at parties to look cool, and actually into something that I let Him have control of.  It was then that I began focusing my artwork on the stories, ideas, and convictions that truly mattered to me.  Those years in college were where I truly began trying to create artwork that told the story of God’s relevance in my life.  It was (and is) through my artwork that I really began to feel God’s hand on my life and learn to accept who He wants me to be.  Whether it has been coloring with crayons or paint, God has taught me more about this life, and who He wants me to be, than I could ever capture with words.  The most important thing that I have learned about this life is release.  I cannot begin to describe to you the blessings that have been rained down upon my head, nor can I tell you why.  Through every brilliance in my life I have found that it is God’s hand and release of my own that shines beyond measure.

Since the day God walked her into my life, the most radiant color in my box has been my wife Katie.  It is her smile and embrace that reminds me daily how amazing, wonderful, and fulfilling my God is.  She is like that one gold crayon that you truly covet and only use on special drawings.  Katie has been a constant motivator and believer in my work, and encourages me daily without ever saying a word.