I am an artist

I am an artist. Made in the image of the Creator, creating deeply satisfies me. I delight in stringing together words to create a beautiful thought, picking out an original melody on my guitar, and delicately transforming the strokes of a pencil in my sketchbook into a lovely image.

Ah, but now I am a mother, with little time to pursue my passion. Must my artist’s heart give way to the demands of motherhood?

No, motherhood has merely changed and shaped the artist in me. My new sketchpad is often a Magna Doodle, and I delight my preschoolers with my masterful drawings of shapes, animals, and characters from their favorite books. I make music on a green plastic recorder as my toddler squeals and dances around the living room. I create activities and metaphors to teach my children about life and about the Master Artist who loves them and put the spark of creativity in their own hearts. And, I praise their beginning attempts at exploring their own inner artists.

Yes, even as a mom, I am still an artist, and the lives of my children have become my most challenging work of art.