Follow Me!

Victoria.  The Roman Goddess of Victory.  I'm not sure exactly what events or matches our little Victoria will ever win in her life, but I know she quickly wins the heart of just about everyone she meets.  Lately, Victoria will run up and grab my hand and start pulling and tugging, saying "Follow me! Follow me!"  As we're walking or jogging or hopping up the stairs, she continues to repeat the phrase, over and over again, until we reach our destination.  Could be her room for bedtime.  Might be a riotous mess she has made that she wants me to see and appreciate.  Often it's a pile of books she has prepared for me to read to her.  Usually when she grabs my hand and wants me to follow, I'm in the middle of something else and I'm not ready to be hauled away.  But look at that face!  The crazy hair!  The teethy grin!  The squinty eyes!  Impossible not to follow and even to join her in the "Follow Me!" chorus.  And as I find myself sprinting up the stairs to find whatever it is she wants me to see, I see something different.  This is a brushstroke.  One of the thousands and millions of brushstrokes that will someday cover the canvas of her life.  And I'm one of the artists on this combined work.  From Elder Bednar:

In my office is a beautiful painting of a wheat field. The painting is a vast collection of individual brushstrokes—none of which in isolation is very interesting or impressive. In fact, if you stand close to the canvas, all you can see is a mass of seemingly unrelated and unattractive streaks of yellow and gold and brown paint. However, as you gradually move away from the canvas, all of the individual brushstrokes combine together and produce a magnificent landscape of a wheat field. Many ordinary, individual brushstrokes work together to create a captivating and beautiful painting. 

Each family prayer, each episode of family scripture study, and each family home evening is a brushstroke on the canvas of our souls. No one event may appear to be very impressive or memorable. But just as the yellow and gold and brown strokes of paint complement each other and produce an impressive masterpiece, so our consistency in doing seemingly small things can lead to significant spiritual results. “Wherefore, be not weary in well-doing, for ye are laying the foundation of a great work. And out of small things proceedeth that which is great” (D&C 64:33). 

The truth is, there aren't many who can make me smile wider and laugh harder, and in the same breath yell louder and anger quicker, than Victoria.  She draws every emotion in its purest form, often leaving me in awe and amazement that someone so small and innocent could tug so mightily at the deepest strings of my normally consistent and earnest soul.  Jeri and I often joke that if she had been our first, there may not have been three others behind her!  She demands every ounce of patience and tolerance I can muster, yet her genuinely sweet demeanor and her angelic heart give so much more than her craziness and antics take.  

Everyone whose life intersects with ours has a canvas.  Some are covered with brushstrokes and are nearing completion; others have just a few light strokes and a future to create.  Some canvases are small, needing only a touch of paint to become beautiful and complete.  Others are larger, with room to illustrate the wisdom of generations.  Each picture is unique, and each is a joint work of a lifetime of artists.  When Victoria asks me to follow her, I could say no.  I could follow begrudgingly and get mad at her when the end destination is a smeared mess of ChapStick and lotion (recent!).  I could even ignore her, choosing to keep my brush to myself and letting other artists work.  Or I could paint a masterpiece.  I won't know it's a masterpiece while I'm painting it.  I'll need a ton of help to complete it.  Most days it won't feel special or unique, and when I look at other artists and their impressive brushes and amazing skills, I might feel inadequate.  I'll probably get tired, often painting deep into the night or early in the morning with brief rest and few breaks.  Other artists may have a different vision of the final work than I do and I might have to work overtime to minimize their impact.  I'll need to balance my time spent on her canvas with my responsibilities to the other works of art in my life.  And in the end, I'll have to have faith that along the way, as my artwork gradually gives way to her own, she will have learned how to paint and will use her own artistic style to turn our early brushstrokes in to an impressive work of art.  But today, it's back to mixing paints.  Back to my young collection of canvases and art classes.  Back to preparing brushes and painting.  Maybe I'll find the time to step back and look at the works of art in their infancy.  Perhaps I'll even see a glimpse of the final masterpieces.  Back to work.