When Harvey Dunn painted his oil painting, “The Prairie is My Garden,” in 1950, he couldn’t have known that I’d hang a postcard-sized print of it on my writing desk.
The subject, a pioneer woman, stands in the wind of the prairie, the shiny blade of a knife in her right hand and a beautiful bouquet of wildflowers in her left. She has had to use the knife to gather those flowers, and her daughters are with her, helping.
Gathering beauty is worth her time, though the constant demands of cows, chickens, and children are ever-present. She could be cooking, cleaning, mending, or tending, but instead, here she stands, using the sharp edge of the knife to harvest beauty made by the Creator.
My days have been a whirlwind recently, and last night, I sat down at my desk for the first time in many weeks and looked up at Dunn’s painting. The glint of the knife caught my eye, and I contemplated how the woman would have had to use the harsh truth of the cutting edge to harvest the bountiful wonders that God made to grow all around her.
And I heard Him speak, “Be still and know that I am God.”
In the stillness, I thought of several difficult truths. One, that some people reject God and go to hell. Two, a friend of mine is at the end of her life. Three, there is nothing I can do to restore beauty, health, or youth to those who are perishing or who have perished.
The truth cuts like a knife.
In the stillness, I hear the meowing of a cat just outside the window. I go out into the darkness of night. All is still except for the cat that rubs against my legs. I look up at myriads of stars, points of light in the crepe of darkness overhead.
Truth’s knife harvests the beauty there.
One, the God who made those stars holds each person in His hand and offers each of us forgiveness and eternal life. Two, He conquered death. Three, He can restore beauty, health, and youth and make it last forever.
Suddenly, I am holding a bouquet that I didn’t purchase, nor did I cause it to grow. It was only mine for the harvesting, and the difficult truths I’d been contemplating made it possible to see the beauty that complements them.
Jesus changes everything. He is Truth, Goodness, and Beauty; the Way, and the Truth, and the Life. No one comes to the Father except through Him. He’s the only One who makes it possible to hold the knife of truth in your right hand while also holding the bouquet of beauty in your left because He holds us in His mighty, capable hand.
In the face of difficult truths, He helps me be still so that I can see His beauty and know that He is God.
