The Art Conference

What do you think of when you hear "art conference"? I think of someone trying to teach me to draw or paint. Maybe a new technique will be discussed. Perhaps the speaker will talk about art in history. When I think of an art conference I do not general think of humility. I would not think that the goal of the speakers would be to bless, honor, and serve the people in the audience.

Imagine with me for a moment. You hear a single guitar but its player is completely hidden from view. As you look for the musician, you notice a potters wheel on the stage. A man walks over to the wheel and starts throwing pottery. Then he speaks. He speaks about the potters house. As he forms the cup he is making, he explains how he has to form and mold it, how he is cutting away the imperfections. He explains how when he is done he will put the cup on a shelf and he will leave it there until it is bone dry. If I were the cup, I would feel forgotten and abandoned. Oh how I would long for the days when I could feel the potters hand. How I would yearn for just a little water. I would question if the potter would ever return to me. But, the potter knows better than I, the cup. The potter knows that if there is any moisture in me when I am put into the kiln, I will be ruined. He explains how he never forgot about the cup and he is eagerly waiting for when he can use it. First it must be fired. In the fire the makeup of the cup changes and it is never the same. It can be filled over and over again. This is the first night of the art conference.


Here Artist were honored. Artist were envisioned. I will be the first to admit that this was not at all what I expected. I did not expect that a drama team would travel numerous hours with small children so they could speak freedom from comparison over a room full of hurting artist. I did not expect that one of the key note speakers would validate the unknown artist in the room and give them places of honor. I did not expect that one of the other speakers would stay at least four hours after the doors were locked every night to pray over people. I did not expect that the people we were honoring would humble themselves just so they could lift up the heads of others. This was unlike any other conference I have been to. This was an upside down conference for an upside down Kingdom.

This day

 Over the last few months I have had the privilege of meeting with numerous people in the church. Through these meetings I've started to become aware of a startling reality. The majority of them have deep wounds that have never been addressed. The fact of the matter is that a large portion of the Bride is hemorrhaging from critical wounds and nobody is noticing. What is even more startling is that these wounds have been administered by ministers of the Gospel.

I am not saying that these wounds have been caused on purpose. We as ministers have simply become complacent with the Bride. We have been careless with our words and deeply wounded the Lord's Beloved. It is imperative that we handle the Lord's Beloved with care. I know that I have over looked people as I was hurrying to do good and important things. The fact of the matter is that by not stopping to notice them I have mishandled them and reinforced in their hearts the lie that they are forgotten and unimportant. I have wounded the Bride. Let this not be said of us.

We as ministers must be ever aware of the very fragile state of the Bride. While financial stewardship is a topic that we are all familiar, I fear the importance of stewarding hearts has been over looked. Beloved, we have been entrusted with the stewardship of people. Let it be said of us that we noticed. Let it be said of us that while on our way to our next meeting we stopped, crossed the street, and took the time to bandage up the wounded. Let it be said of us that we learned to love well.