A display at the vendor market caught my attention. The beautiful fused glass pieces were not for sale but I was told I could register for classes to make my own.
I was intrigued and over the next few days shared my interest with a few others. Together we registered and headed off with great expectations of what we could create.
At the first class I sat facing a red cafeteria tray holding two, four inch squares of clear glass. In each corner of the tray were pellets of coloured glass.
After an introduction to this art form we were told to use what was on our tray or find other shapes, sizes and colours of glass from a nearby table and have fun creating.
What? Instant panic set in. If a template was set out for me I would follow it to the best of my ability. But, to start from a blank slate and create something produced an almost paralyzing fear.
I sat staring at the contents of my tray, unsure how to even begin. Around me, others had chosen shapes and colours and were already creating. I wandered around, looking at what they were doing, hoping for inspiration.
Eventually I attempted to create specific patterns out of random pieces. Some worked and others didn’t. At one point, in a moment of frustration, I swept all the bits and pieces to the side and started over. At the end of the class we left our pieces to be fired in the kiln. I was gong to have to wait until the next class to see how they turned out.
The following week I was surprised to see how the initial look of the glass had changed after spending time in extreme heat. Now that I understood complete control of the outcome was not possible, I relaxed and enjoyed the process. On my six inch pieces of glass, I created random designs with colours and shapes I wouldn’t have previously put together.
When I received my finished work a couple of weeks later, I was surprised to see that the less controlled ones were my favourites. Instead of being upset that one had a big air bubble in it, I embraced the uniqueness. Every piece had its own beauty.
As I thought of my experience, I couldn’t help but see the parallels to my life over the past couple of years.
When my life shattered, I looked at the broken pieces and didn’t know what to do. A large portion of who I was was missing. It wasn’t possible to put the remaining fragments together to form what I’d had before. My options were to stay frozen in fear or to move forward and create something new.
Many beautiful memories of various sizes and colours had shaped me over the years. I chose some and used them to help me find new segments of the emerging picture of my life.
Some days I try too hard to form the fragments into the picture I have in my mind. Others, I am more spontaneous. I’ve learned I don’t have complete control over the outcome. Being forged in the fire tends to change things. It also smooths out the sharp edges and makes the finished product stronger.
With guidance from God, the Master Creator, my life is taking on the shape and colours of his design. I am His work of art and He’s not finished with me yet.
My frustration level was high and I wanted to quit. “It’s no use,” I thought. “I’ve never been artistic and just can’t do this.”