In an email on my birthday, my new cyber friend, Patty Ann, wrote: “Happy Birthday Pamela. You will find your gift on my blog.” After clicking over to her blog, I read the following poem:

Strokes of Love

By guest writer Patricia A. Moore

When strokes of love are put upon a page,
It speaks the heart of the one portrayed.
With every brush stroke you tell a story,
Giving God Blessing, Honor, and Glory.

Capturing the essence of His nature foretold,
In the harmonizing colors that start to unfold.
Movement of paint, gliding across the canvas time,
Creates a beautiful picture, heavenly designed.

Inspiration can come from most anywhere—
A child in a sandbox, or a town’s old time square,
Drive in the country, a picnic at the lake,
Family gathering around for a picture to take.

Or a walk along the beach at night,
Full moon glistening off the water just right.
The soft breeze blowing through your hair,
Just God and you, in the night air.

On the palette of life, arranged and blended,
From Heaven, the pigment of color descended.
Paint strokes from God, dry brush or shading,
The beauty brought forth, always cascading.

When strokes of love are put upon a page,
It speaks the heart of the one portrayed.
The last and final painting to take place,
Is painted on the easel of God’s Grace.

Thinking about the paintings on my easel

While pondering Patty Ann’s poem, I sat down to paint. After picking up my brush, I mused—how many strokes are on my canvas? A thousand, ten thousand, or perhaps even a hundred thousand. I didn’t know.

But each stroke carries the potential to awaken the human heart. Because at times while looking at the combined strokes on finished canvases, a viewer may begin to cry. The subtle trail of the brush has power to move hearts. Patty Ann, thanks for reminding me of the mystery and wonder within each tiny stroke.