Blank Canvas

As I add words to this blank canvas, I am imagining an artist, brush in hand, in front of a blank canvas. I imagine the artist’s hand quivering ever so slightly as the tip of the brush changes everything on that blank canvas from white to whatever color is about to drip off that brush. Oh, the anticipation!  

I feel like this as a writer. As I type words onto a blank newly opened Word document, as the color touches the canvas, it changes the page. Suddenly there is purpose for the blank page. It’s almost like a piece of freedom. 

It is freedom to write whatever I want. Freedom to be whoever I want to be, while I write. 

Taking this thought a little bit further, each day can be like a blank canvas. Waking up, greeting the morning with the same kind of anticipation at the artist’s tip of the brush. What colors will the day bring? 

What words will I add to my page? We write our own stories as we go through each day. We have the ability to paint each piece of the day. 

We pray. We seek. We paint. We write.