Reminders of Beauty
By Anthony Casperson
5-17-25

Nine years. Wow. That’s how many years of existence Brushstrokes of a Theonerd celebrates this week. It’s a big milestone, despite the fact that a ninth-year anniversary doesn’t feel all that special.

The first couple of anniversaries might feel better because it’s amazing to have gone that long, considering the growing pains. And anniversaries like the fifth or tenth feel special to us because of the numbers. But ninth doesn’t seem like anything more than just the final stepping stone to the tenth.

I felt very much like that as I grew closer to writing this blog. Just another anniversary. Another year of talking about the pain and depression and anxiety that led to the start of this whole website, like I always do in these anniversary blogs. One more week to remind us of the value in finding beauty in the midst of our pain.

The words themselves are of great value. Truth that helps us followers of Jesus to grow spiritually while dwelling in The Depths of Darkness. But honestly, I wasn’t feeling them this year. At best, I was only appreciating the ability to go on autopilot for the blog this week.

Besides the depression and anxiety, I’ve been dealing with other pains over the past few years. Physical pain that led to multiple medical procedures, including neck surgery. And while certain pains are better, others took their place. I can find solace in the fact that some days allow me a truly productive set of daylight hours, but other days leave me wracked with such pain that productivity means providing only for my basest needs for the next few hours. (The worst days often directly following the best.)

In the midst of all of this, I’m trying to find a job to pay the bills. A remote job because yesterday was literally the first day in over a year that could drive more than a few blocks without pain. And the job search is quite depression-inducing. Even more so when I think about how this website is among the bills that need to get paid. And fearful thoughts of not being able to reach that tenth anniversary of Theonerd add to it.

It’s difficult to want to celebrate what I know can realistically be the last anniversary. (I’d prefer for it not to be, but not every part of that decision is in my hands.)

All of this has been on my mind so much that taking an “autopilot week” felt like a good thing. But then, just over a week ago, I began to be reminded anew of the truth that started this website.
The sermon I was writing last week—which will be uploaded in just over a month—led me to words from that first blog. Words I got from a TV show, sure, but still words that God had used in my journey to see what he’d been doing in my life.

The idea from the sermon was that grief, depression, and anxiety can sometimes leave us in a place of inaction. A place where we don’t know what to do, or don’t want to even try anymore. And it’s not the pain or loss that’s the problem. Instead, the problem comes into play when we give in to the voice that tells us to do nothing but wallow in our misery. The problem is the inaction.

And the solution is to continue along with God in his work for us, even with the tears rolling down our cheeks. We should allow God to use our pain to bring his beauty into the world. Show others what it means to faithfully grieve. What it means to get back to our appointed role in God’s plan for the world, even when we feel like the wind has just gotten knocked out of our lungs.

Faithfulness isn’t about showing a brave face, but rather is about showing how a godly person faces the difficulties of our lives.

This thought reminded me of the whole point of this website, the calling God provided for me through it. To transform the pain of this life into ecstatic beauty. To use my passion and pain to portray the ecstasy and joy and magnificence of our world. And our Lord.

By the time I wrote these words into the sermon, “And God uses my struggle with hopelessness to bring hope to others,” I was in tears. Not from the pain or the depression that causes it. But because in that moment I was reminded of the beauty of God. The brilliantly pure light that radiates his magnificence, even in the darkest of depths. His stunning grace that makes the delve bearable and worth the pain.

Through that idea, I’m reminded of Job’s words in Job 28. He’d been struggling with his own pain and loss. And having to defend his innocence—because his “friends” said that these terrible events had to be as a result of his sin—he wrestled all the more with the darkness. Flailing at everything to find the truth.

But in the midst of all of this pain and loss and hopelessness, Job speaks with beautiful clarity of the wisdom of God. The beauty of the one who revealed his wisdom in that vast ocean of pain.

Job likens wisdom to gems from deep in the earth. Beautiful treasures that humanity uproots mountains to find. Priceless jewels that lead some to darkness so deep that it’s butting up next to death itself. And though the manner of gaining the gems is difficult, a path that few are willing to tread, they are worth the trouble. Called priceless and precious by those who witness them.

The wisdom of God is likewise difficult to find. It often takes hardships and trials to attain. But for those who gain it, the pain is worth the beauty. It is priceless and precious.

Not all must travel the deep darkness to gain access. But it does mean that some of us must delve bring it to others. And because of his own pain, Job lays out words of beautiful wisdom at the end of the chapter. “Behold, the fear of the Lord, that is wisdom, and to turn away from evil is understanding” (Job 28:28).

A reminder that our lives are in the hands of God. And our place is to seek him and his ways, no matter what life brings to us. God himself is the beauty that makes the pain worth it. He’s the one helps us transform the pain of this life into ecstatic beauty.

And that’s a reminder that many of us need on this ninth anniversary of Brushstrokes of a Theonerd. Whatever your pain, no matter how deep in the darkness you find yourself, God is there ready to reveal the wisdom of his beauty to you.

Even if you’ve seen it eight other times before.