“Your mind is the canvas upon which you are the artist. What will you paint on your canvas today? Will you draw a stick figure or create a masterpiece…?” – James A. Murphy …
Each day of our lives, we are contributing towards the person we will someday become. And if I were to imagine my day today as a blank canvas, and I had the opportunity to paint it to be however I would like to remember this day as, what would my canvas turn out to be? Would I put effort and heart into it, knowing that by doing so I will have captured as much of the color and beauty of my day that I possibly could?
What do I contribute towards my day? How about towards the days of those around me? James offers a good reminder to me that the brush strokes and colors I use upon my canvas are my choice. The resulting artwork is therefore a good representation of me, the artist. And if I want the brush strokes to mean something to me, and something to the people I touch in life, I must put time and effort into my work.
Fill your time on this Earth with beauty and character–for the canvas you see tomorrow will be filled with the contributions you make today.
Make your day a beautiful day.
Questions to consider:
What does your canvas from yesterday look like?
What are you contributing to your masterpiece today?
What are some ways in which you can help someone else create a masterpiece on their canvas today?
For further thought:
“We are, not metaphorically but in very truth, a Divine work of art, something that God is making, and therefore something with which He will not be satisfied until it has a certain character. Here again we come up against what I have called the “intolerable compliment.” Over a sketch made idly to amuse a child, an artist may not take much trouble: he may be content to let it go even though it is not exactly as he meant it to be. But over the great picture of his life–the work which he loves, though in a different fashion, as intensely as a man loves a woman or a mother a child–he will take endless trouble–and would doubtless, thereby give endless trouble to the picture if it were sentient. One can imagine a sentient picture, after being rubbed and scraped and re-commenced for the tenth time, wishing that it were only a thumb-nail sketch whose making was over in a minute. In the same way, it is natural for us to wish that God had designed for us a less glorious and less arduous destiny; but then we are wishing not for more love but for less.” – C.S. Lewis, The Problem of Pain