The Art of Thankfulness (a short story)

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I will praise the name of God with a song, and will magnify him with thanksgiving. -Psalms 69:30

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Orange, brown, and green oil paint shown brightly as the sun rose one beautiful autumn morning of November. The canvas which the paint was lathered in a form of a mountain scene, stood tall on a wooden easel. Stacks of paint buckets sat in rows on shelves behind the painting.

I, Kimberly Matthews, was going to be a famous painter—as least I hoped so. In one week, I was going to enter an autumn-themed paintingto my town's Art Contest. It would be judged, along with hundreds of other paintings, on the evening of the entering day.

I dipped my paintbrush into dark, brown paint and swiped the words "Give Thanks unto the Lord" in the blue sky above the mountains. I was so thankful He gave me this chance to enter a painting, for painting was my weakness. If I could do only two things in this world, I would choose to paint. And breathe, but painting came first.

Pausing to check my work, I adjusted the pallet in my hand and peered at a bumpy spot of paint on the canvas, then swiped at it with my brush. It leveled out and I went back to work.

A swish here, a smear there. I knew this was going to be the best painting in the whole contest. The judges just had to pick it!

Too busy with my artwork, I hadn't noticed when Fresco, my Yorkshire Terrier, came racing in, until it was too late. Since he wasn't allowed in my art room, I set down my stuff to catch him. But he thought it was game and galloped around, nearly upsetting a flowerpot sitting on a small, wooden table.

"Fresco, come here!" I bent down and slapped my legs, but it did no good. He just wasn't going to come and catching him would be impossible.

Giving one last try, I lunged toward him as he headed toward a corner of theroom. Instead of cowering like I hoped, he swiveled around me and headed straight toward the canvas.

The rest was slow motion.

Both of my hands covered my mouth as I watched the painting fly into the air and the easel tumble over. My pallet was knocked off the small table it lay on and the jar of water to clean my brushes, tipped, spilling dirty water all over the floor. In a second, Fresco found the open door and escaped.

Istood there staring at everything. Silence reigned for a couple minutes before I burst into tears and flopped into my beanbag chair. Tears fell for what seemed like hours and I finally faced the fact that all my hard work was ruined.

"Why does everything have to happen to me?" My voice sounded quite loud in the quiet art room, but I didn't care. "Why, when I've been working so hard, was it all ruined?"

My ways are not your ways.

I pondered the words for a moment. Had I been too sure of myself? Proud? I hadn't realized that I might not win the contest. Was God testing me when he sent this great opportunity into my life?

"I'm sorry." I bent down to retrieve my painting. I knew God knew who I was speaking to.

The canvas was ruined. The autumn colors blended together, giving the picture a "modern art" look. Instead of crying again, I laughed.

When I was thanking God for this experience, the whole time I hadn'trealized He was teaching me something. He was testing my faith. I had been so confident that I would win, when God had other plans, showing me that winning wasn't everything.

He had given me the talent to paint and He didn't want me to find men's praises; He wanted me to look to Him. And I hadn't.

Setting the canvas on the righted easel, I touched the messed up words I had just finished painting before Fresco came in. "Give Thanks unto theLord."

"Thank you Lord for showing me where I should be in my life," I began. "Thank you for giving me this talent to be able to paint and help me to give You  the glory and not focus on what men will think." When I finished praying, I felt better. I wasn't upset with my dog anymore, I was thankful God had this accident happen so I could understand.

Thankfulness didn't just happen, it came from God himself. It was an art. As paint was added to a canvas, bringing out a beautiful picture, so was thankfulness when we realized the significant of it. It becomes real in our lives, just as the painting.

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First Edition

Copyright © 2017 by R. A. Rooney. All rights reserved. No part of this may be reproduced.

The Art of Thankfulness is a work of fiction.

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