The Accidental Artist

What’s an accidental artist? Well. Let’s talk about that.

You know those kids who dreamed of being an artist from the time they could sit up? They drove their mom nuts by drawing on the coffee table…on the walls…in the hymnals at church….turning every scrap of junk into a piece of fine art? Seeing life through a lens of beauty and artistic genius? Looking into art schools at the age of 11 and dreaming of the day they could travel the world and visit museums and see the masterpieces?

I…was not one of those children.

I had none of that genius I described above. I appreciated beautiful things, for sure. But I did not create beautiful things. I did not draw. The idea of drawing or painting baffled me. I sewed a few things here and there and wasn’t half bad at it. I played the piano and taught beginner piano lessons throughout my teen years. That was pretty much the extent of any artistic abilities I possessed. At all.

I mean, even Pictionary was pretty iffy when I was involved.

Then one day, in my mid-twenties, I ended up very sick and flat out in bed. Months went by and I was still sick in bed. Surgeries happened. I wasn’t convinced I was going to live to see another birthday, and my doctors were considering a feeding tube. I couldn’t keep up with my job, obviously. And was pretty much confined to the house—mostly my bed. This was a difficult season for me.

And I suddenly got the urge to….paint. I don’t remember if I somehow was well enough to get to Walmart one day or if I ordered stuff off Amazon…or maybe I even just had old crusty art supplies under my bed. I certainly didn’t start with anything fancy at all.

It’s hard for me to even put into words or know how to describe, and sometimes I feel like I maybe shouldn’t even be public about this part of my story, but…suddenly I could paint. I never had before, and there was suddenly the ability to create these beautiful things with my paintbrush—and it was something I could do right there in bed.

I feel like it’s a gift the Lord gave me in that hard, dark season of unknowns and pain and medical bills. People started wanting to purchase my prints. I started doing custom paintings. The whole thing was pretty baffling to me (and often still is!), but it’s been so humbling, too.

I pray so often that I don’t take this gift for granted. I don’t want to abuse it or waste it or grow overly-confident or cocky or…anything ridiculous. It’s all from the Lord and I completely cannot take credit for one tiny bit of it. But I need to be a good steward of what I’ve been given. And I feel like over the last couple years, I’ve gotten scared about how to utilize it the right way somehow. I’m not sure why. But I’m venturing out into new and uncharted territories for me.

So that’s me, an accidental artist, stumbling into some big dreams and big goals, wanting to maneuver through the honor of carrying this gifting well.