The Boat

The boat in Renouf's painting appears to be a character in the depiction itself. Ordinary, rough, and fairly confining, it possesses a life of its own and grounds the painting. For me it represents the idea of a believer’s journey.

The Christian life, by nature, is a dynamic, purposeful movement. It is never stagnant even when it may, discouragingly, seem so. The journey is a precise design and is the object on which God acts to draw the Christian towards him. The migration takes many forms as it, by instinct, presses towards the Father’s house. The path can be pleasant, monotonous, or more than flesh and blood can bear.

When I was first offered the words tumor, cancer, metastasis, I fled, in my mind, to the sanctuary of the 23^rd Psalm. Its verses have always exerted a power over my heart, mind and soul. But it was not until I lay in bed, fully terrified, trying to recite it, that I came to this notion that the psalm itself is the image of a pilgrimage. The words represent an odyssey of states of being or locations conducted by the Lord, who is the end of the passage itself.

At this point in my life I am painfully aware of traveling through a shadowland and it is hard not to give in to the fear of its awful presence. So, here I sit in this small confining space with a depth beneath me and a distance to go. As I am able, I hope to formulate my thoughts about my traveling companion.

The Helping Hand

Art is a very important vehicle for the human soul. It challenges us and also represents the common story and struggle we all share. It is profoundly true that a picture is worth a thousand words.

Yesterday, while going through some art cards from Caitlin’s fifth grade year, I found this portrayal of Emile Renouf’s painting, titled, The Helping Hand. It captures beautifully my perception of this new geography I find myself in. In the next few posts, I would like to share certain aspects of the painting and how they have touched me. You can click on the image to get a fuller view.

The painting depicts Renouf’s daughter with her grandfather, a fisherman in Brittany, an island which has, somehow in my memory, a connection with King Arthur. The fisherman is Renouf’s father. Emile Renouf was fairly unknown until he painted this picture.

There are numerous things to comment on in this simple painting. My first impression is the stark differences between the major subjects. The child is small, inexperienced and her coloring stands out among the drabber, heavier colors of the boat and the rougher clothing of her grandfather. Her outer wear is meant for another lifestyle entirely yet, she is in this boat. Her focus is on her task. Her gaze is intense; I do see fear in it as it appears that she has never encountered this work before.

In contrast, her hands appear to be merely resting on the oar, no tension in the fingers at all. She is not in control. Does she believe she is? She is the fisherman's child and perhaps he has told her to rest them there and feel the movement, learning how he manages the boat. Her job may be to not attempt moving the oar at all. Either way, it is hard to rest or work. She looks at the oar, but he looks at her.

I see myself in the child, small, ill-prepared for the unfamiliar setting; and utterly incapable of making the boat move at all. But, I am not alone. I am connected, by birth to the experienced Oarsman, beside me who is totally good, prepared for the journey, who knows the destination and has the strength to move through the water.

The grandfather; the boat; the water; those on the shore and further out on the horizon are things I continue to ponder in this wonderful painting.