Reflecting on Beauty and Pain
By Anthony Casperson
5-18-24

It’s starting to become an annoying theme to my time writing these blogs. I fully intend to write the next one in a certain direction, but just before I sit down to write, something sends me a totally different way. Of course, we’ll celebrate the eight years of Brushstrokes of a Theonerd. That’s just what we do around here. But we’ll just get there a little differently.

When I prepared my thoughts, I’d decided to write about how looking back to our starting purpose helps us also look forward. To what we’ll continue to do. But then, an offhanded comment in a short video that I watched while eating breakfast sent my mind somewhere that left me reconsidering my words for this anniversary blog.

The woman mentioned the oft-repeated perspective that the best artists are the most miserable and depressed individuals. She continued by saying that such a thought isn’t necessarily true.

And it’s not true. There are many who feel depressed and, because of the lack of motivation, allow it to keep them from completing truly beautiful things. Some fear the possible failures so much that they’d rather keep dreaming of their perfect life than discover growth through the pain. And, unfortunately, there are some miserable people who’d rather make themselves feel better by making others equally miserable—or even more miserable.

But I do think that there’s something to the idea about pain and artists. It’s not the misery, depression, and anxiety that makes an artist good. No one is saying that if you want to show beauty to the world, then you have to experience some masochistic life.

It’s not the pain that leaves people in awe.

What can accomplish that awe-inducing work of art is an artist presenting beauty despite the pain. Or better yet beauty in the midst of the pain.

A simple splash of color in a sea of drab darkness. A single image of soft and welcoming warmth surrounded by the stark and harsh corners of life. A speck of our great Creator’s light that penetrates the fallenness of our sinful world.

That thought reminded me of the very first blog of this website. The purpose of why this whole thing exists. So that this God-made masterpiece can cling to him through the torment of the mess of this world. And reflect his beauty that he has placed in me to those experiencing their own pain.

It’s what he made me for.

And although the context of Psalm 139 is about praising God for how intimately he knows us, the words of verses 13-16 remind me of this amazing aspect of being a work of God’s craftsmanship.

He shaped us before birth. With reverence and distinct purpose, he worked his wondrous hand into us. When we were still an unformed substance—merely a single fertilized cell—he knew who we were going to be and what he had for us to accomplish.

Our God had written every single day of our lives in his book. Every triumph. Every failure. Every shout of excitement. Every tear of pain. All before we had taken a single breath.

And his hand is present in every moment, as long as we remain willing to see his wondrous beauty amidst it all.

I think there’s something to be said about the memorable pillars of our faith. It’s not the pains that they underwent which leave us in awe. Not the troubles that they overcame. Not the losses they felt. It’s the beauty of our God that they experienced in the midst of that pain. That’s what leaves us awestruck.

Masterpieces beautifully reflecting the wonder of their Creator.

As we celebrate the eighth anniversary of this website, I hope to reflect his beauty. Not that I’ve arrived at some mystical height—I’m just as much in the refining stage as all who read these words. Still a work in progress. But also still a work of our amazing God.

I don’t know how every one of you specifically reflects God’s beauty in life, so I can’t tell you what the exact steps are. But I can serve as a reminder that it’s when we witness the beauty of God in every circumstance that we can reflect it.

Stand in awe of his wondrous beauty. And we’ll find those colorful splashes reflected in us, even during the worst moments.