Part 8 (1/2)
”Now, Adam, do you really think I could ever do conventional? I'm an impressionist.” Jim Ed let out a jovial laugh and slapped me on the back. ”Let me explain the painting to you. It tells a story.”
”Please do,” I said. ”I'm definitely curious. I was thinking more like, 'What is this?'”
”Like I told you, whenever I paint someone, I try to draw from more than just their exterior. I attempt to capture what their energy and soul are conveying to me.”
”My soul was conveying to you that hideous dragon-like thing?” I was bracing for ”Oh yes, that's you all right. You're a monster.”
”Yep,” said Jim Ed. ”That's part of it, but it was also conveying to me the courage and spirit of the lion, the David in you that is struggling to come out and have a voice.”
With my arms crossed over my chest, I was intently listening and studying my portrait thinking, Okay, it could be worse, when Jim Ed's cell phone dinged again. After checking the message's source, he handed the Blackberry to me. It was Josh.
”Where are you? I've been waiting forever! I'm going out with friends.”
”Is Mom home?” I typed and pressed Send, then waited.
A few seconds later I got a reply. ”No.”
”Keep going,” I said, handing the phone back to Jim Ed. ”I need to hear what you have to say. A few more minutes won't make any difference.”
”I believe G.o.d wants you to hear this too,” Jim Ed continued. ”I see this dark dragon inside of you, Adam. It's scary and loud and tries to control you. It's your flesh, your old nature. Sometimes it's so overwhelming that you feel paralyzed and want to give up on life and living. You're weary of doing the same things that you hate, over and over again. It's a cycle that reproduces itself and you don't know why. Inside you are tormented.” He placed his arm on my shoulder and squeezed. ”But I want to tell you something. Even though that dragon is powerful, even though it's loud and demanding, you don't have to let it rule you. You can slay it.”
As Jim Ed spoke, something stirred inside me...hope, a fight that I hadn't felt for years. Something s.h.i.+fted. I wanted to slay the dragon. If there was going to be a fight, I was all in and was willing to go down swinging.
Jim Ed reached down and patted his old Bible. ”You slay the dragon within you by using this-the Sword of Truth. The Word of G.o.d is the Light. It is your sword.” I must have shown a look of slight hesitation, because he said, ”Hear me out, Adam. This is important. It's going to change the way you see. The dragon, the enemy, is a deceiver. He likes to work in the dark, whisper lies in our ears like, 'You act like me. You look like me. You smell like me. G.o.d doesn't really love you. He's disappointed in you.' The enemy is real. He's bent on destroying you and everything you stand for. You have to know the truth, know your true ident.i.ty in Christ because when you mess up over and over again, that dragon will pop up its ugly head and start screaming, 'You don't belong to Christ. You're not even saved! Just give up on G.o.d and everything else. There's no use fighting the fight.'
”But you can never give up the fight, Adam! The Bible says the kingdom suffers violence and the violent take it by force. If you're going to have a life, you have to fight for it. If you are going to have a family, you have to fight for it, and that fight starts by knowing the truth about yourself and about your enemy!”
Jim Ed s.h.i.+fted his attention to the lion face on the paper. ”Now, you see this lion over here?” He said pointing, ”This is what I see you becoming-what your inner man wants to become, finding true success and lasting contentment. So much of your ident.i.ty has been wrapped up in performance. You've lost yourself, lost your voice. But don't be thinking it's too late for change and having a different life. That's another deception of the dragon. It's never too late until they put you in the grave. If anyone should know, it's me. The important thing in life is not how you start, but how you finish. Finish strong Adam, finish strong.”
”I want to.”
”Then never give up the fight! Fight for truth. The truth will set you free.
”The dragon within you feeds on deception. Deception is what hinders a person from letting go, walking in love, and receiving G.o.d's ever-flowing grace. As long as the dragon can keep you deceived, it can keep you in the dark, holding on to those ugly, self-defeating behaviors. It prevents us from trusting anyone. Keeps us from having the intimate relations.h.i.+ps G.o.d created us to have. We were made in the image of perfect intimacy and our hearts long for this. But when you truly know who you are, that His spirit is in you, you recognize that certain self-defeating, even sinful, actions are not consistent with who you really are.
”Every time I've fallen short, Adam, it's been because I've taken my eyes off of who I am in Christ Jesus. Your ident.i.ty is the key to outwardly becoming the masterpiece G.o.d created you to be. It's understanding that your spirit-man is already a masterpiece, Christ in you. Those who compromise are men and women who've become shortsighted or blinded by the enemy's deceptions and have forgotten who they are.”
I stepped back, looked up into the sky, trying to absorb everything. Storm clouds appeared to be forming in the distance. I wondered if Paige was home now. ”Looks like it's going to rain later,” I said. ”I might need to start heading on back soon.”
”We could talk while we walk to the parking lot, if you don't mind,” said Jim Ed. ”My truck's there.”
”That'll work.”
At that, Jim Ed took my watercolor portrait, carefully rolled it up, slid it into one of his cylinders and handed it to me.
”Thanks,” I said. ”This is going to be a reminder to me-no more excuses.”
”Thank you for allowing me the privilege of painting you.” After saying that, he began putting away his paints then folded his easel and stool.
”I'm the one privileged.”
Jim Ed took the handle of his cart and began to walk.
”Here, let me take that,” I said gripping the cart to pull for him. He seemed spent.
”Thank you,” he said. ”Believe it or not, painting takes a lot out of me. I just don't have the energy that I used too.”
The cart was surprisingly lightweight and we walked around the lake toward the parking lot as Jim Ed continued.
”Remember I said earlier that when you are secure in G.o.d and living in desperate dependence on Him, not in your own power or self-effort, the supernatural happens?”
I c.o.c.ked my head. ”Yeah.”
”You receive healing from those past broken relations.h.i.+ps and allow G.o.d to show you how to give your heart to the things that really matter. G.o.d's not broken, Adam.”
”I want that,” I said, letting out a deep, long sigh. ”I've been sabotaging my relations.h.i.+p with my wife and my son, Jim Ed, going numb to protect myself.”
”Kind of like Paige has done,” he said.
23.
”Fall is Paige's favorite time of the year,” I said as we walked along noticing the beauty of the changing leaves. ”Mine too. We used to like hiking through the woods taking in the beauty of nature.”
”Leaves become their brightest right before they die, you know,” he said. Some teenagers playing Frisbee sailed their disc our way, almost hitting the cart. It skidded to our feet. Jim Ed slowly bent down, holding his back with his hand and picked up the Frisbee and sailed it back wobbly to the kids.
At the parking lot, we walked to an extraordinarily clean, silver pickup truck with a matching camper sh.e.l.l. It could have been fifteen years old, but looked brand-new-definitely the kind of vehicle you wanted to buy secondhand. Jim Ed dropped down the tailgate and pulled out a ramp with rollers. Then he pulled down a cable that was connected to a small motor and hooked it to the cart. He turned on the little motor and it pulled the cart right into the back of the truck.
”I could have just put the cart up in there for you,” I said.
”I know, but then you wouldn't have seen my contraption,” he said. ”It was my idea you know. As I got older, it became harder for me to lift stuff up in the truck so I developed this little baby.”
”Clever,” I said.
After closing the tailgate, Jim Ed shuffled to the driver's side door, opened it and slid in. Lowering the window, he rested his elbow in the opening. I tapped the cylinder holding my portrait in my hands. ”Thanks for this, Jim Ed,” I said. ”I know I'm going to look at it and think about the things you've said.”
He held out his hand and grasped mine, looked up at me, perhaps like a grandfather would. ”G.o.d bless you, Adam Camp,” he said. ”It was nice meeting you. I pray you and Paige work it out and I pray Josh comes around.”
”What do I do now?” I blurted out.
”Oh, I think you know,” he said with a twinkle in his eye. Straightening his hat, he placed the key in the ignition, and cranked the engine. ”See you later,” he said giving me a quick military salute, while putting the truck into reverse.
I stood watching as the truck backed out of the parking spot and then began creeping forward. Standing there, holding the cylinder, listening to the gravel crunch under the truck's tires, I felt an unusual love for this man rising up in me. ”Jim Ed, wait!” I shouted out, running toward his truck before he made it to the end of the parking lot. The old painter heard my shouts and stopped.