Gathering Together

                    A Work of Art



A work of art me? What a silly concept. I have been called a lot of things over the years a piece of work, a dear, a sweetie, and some that I can’t mention in public unless you happen to be a sailor, but never a work of art.

What makes a work of Art? I looked up art in the dictionary. The very first definition is the quality production, expression of or more than ordinary significance. (Random House Webster’s College Dictionary copyrighted 1992)

I had to sit and get my mind around this idea. A quality production well if anyone in this day and age can say that the human body isn’t a major production. I just don’t know what a production is. I think about God putting the DNA into that first cell. It then grows to become everything from bones and teeth and continues to become muscles and nerves, hair color and eyes.  That is a major production. I mean how many of us have sat and counted a newborns finger and toes. It is a miracle in my book. There are never two exactly alike.

 We are kind of like snowflakes, never two exactly alike. Even twins aren’t exactly alike. One may like apples, and the other may detest them. Is it attitude? Good, Bad or indifferent we all have one that was put in place by our experiences.

We experienced things before we knew that we were having experiences. We have tasted foods. We have fallen in love and out of love. We experience pain, joy and ridicule. How can anything love the imperfection that we are? We are never without the love of our Lord and Savior Jesus.

He knows what we go through. He cries when we cry. He holds us so that we can feel his love. He continues to mold us to make us to his satisfaction. I am sure of his love I feel it every day when I feel the warm sun on my face.

A work of art, I still have my doubts. I will say if he thinks I am a work of art. I will not be the one to tell our Heavenly Father that he made a mistake. I will be happy if I am one of his continuing works in progress, because I know he isn’t through with me yet.



Gwyn K. Weyant