Dip, stroke, brush.
The blank white page begins to come alive with color. Soft, tender brushes of yellow, red, blue, pink and green are painted onto the paper; a kaleidoscope of light and color is swirled together in gloriously beautiful imagination.

The wet paint runs together, creating vibrant and unique combinations in hues and tints.
A picture of the landscape develops before me.
And then I catch my breath. I remember back into my childhood. A caption on a Family Circus cartoon: "God sure does a lot of coloring in the spring!"
A spark ignites on the inside.

God paints beautiful pictures.

The earth is drenched in color. The sun, a luminous globe of blazing gold. The dawn, an awakening flood of brilliance and blush. The trees, a blooming emerald of resonant youth and faithful age. The hills, ambrosial and enigmatic. The frost, glittering all with angelic sparkle.
It is rich, and it is beautiful.

The page before me reflects the world around me. The painting draws me in, awakens my imagination--but here, outside of the watercolor, I feel the grass beneath my feet. I smell the sweet fir trees, I feel the warmth of the sun, I hear the birds singing--and all of creation is proclaiming glory to it's Creator.

And God created all of it.
All of this.

Thank You, God; for this--this beauty, this art, this imagination--this creation.

I dip my brush again, and I declare glory to my Maker.