Holy Confusions

When I want to know God better through Bible study, my biggest, best aids are often my own confusions. They're like big, heavy keys that can unlock new roomfulls of God's piercing and guiding light. They’re like maps to buried jewels that I’ve never seen before. They're like signed, sealed guarantees that I'm not just making a god of my own ideas. By returning to my ignorance, I have hope that I can grow.

I collect them, my biblical confusions, like gemstones, marking my Bible's margins up with question marks. That's the number one mark in my Bible, a question mark. I think that's a very good thing.

All the Umbrellas in London, painted for Amanda

For our engagement, I gave Amanda a painting that came from listening to one of our favorite love songs (The Aspidistra Flies) while thinking about Degas’ racetrack paintings. I wondered whether I could give the forms of umbrella-toting pedestrians the same wonky, space-tilting, off-kilter yet balanced structure of those perfect, perfect horses.

That feeling of catching a random moment, and, on reflection, the recognition of incredible intention, structure, and balance.

Seemingly random, unexplained elements that start like chaos and end like inevitability.

I didn’t quite get it, but I’m really proud of the attempt, and it’s come to represent our romance in a sweet way. The longer I know it, the more it grows on me. Painted in acrylics.