I paint because I must. At times while driving, I’m so captivated by the lighting or cloud formations that I reach for my camera, open the car window, and start snapping pictures (not recommended for safety).

During scheduled sabbaticals from painting, I catch myself still creating mental paintings. Or, like an overstuffed attic, I cram my mind with future paintings. Last summer, one of our dinner guest exclaimed, “Pamela, creativity is pouring out of your pores.”

Sometimes I have to force myself to put my brush down. Otherwise I bargain, Just one more stroke. And before I know it, an hour or two has passed.

But when the last brush stroke is applied to the canvas, I can finally relax. Satisfied, I know that I have endeavored to create something beautiful to uplift the heart. And I feel pleasure.

Photographs waiting for the next burst of creativity cover the floor in my art studio. Every time I walk into my studio I sense the photos beckoning me. As I stare at the pictures, I start working out the next painting’s details: the colors, the lighting, and the background. Although household duties vie for my attention, I find that I must paint some more.

Earlier this month, a photo gallery was launched showcasing Pamela’s watercolor paintings in homes. You’ll find the launch button down on the right side of this page. Feel free to enjoy this slide show while you imagine the possibilities you can create for your own home.

View the In Home Photo Gallery

Have you seen the brilliance of hundreds or perhaps even thousands of candles at a Christmas Eve church service? After everyone is given a candle, the first candle is lit. Then each candle ignites the next. And soon the entire venue is filled with the radiant light.

Pamela hopes to be one such candle. She is currently painting a series of Russian orphan children, entitled Children of the Russian Arctic. These children have lived through difficult situations. Some of them have lost both parents. However, many have parents who are still living, but they carry the label “social orphans" because of their parent’s alcohol abuse or other serious circumstances.

Russian Ministries has invited Pamela to partner with them to help send these orphans to summer camp where they’ll play games, learn to swim, and watch puppet shows that introduce them to Jesus.

To help these children go to camp, Watercolor by Pamela will donate to Russian Ministries all the profit after taxes from the sale of the paintings Sunflower and Silent Night."

One artist may not be able to change the plight of four to five million homeless children throughout Russia and the Ukraine. But through the sale of her artwork, Pamela believes the first child can be reached, lighting the candle of hope. And with God’s help, the darkness would be dispelled as each child’s candle illuminates the next.

Jesus said to the people, "I am the light of the world. If you follow Me, you won’t be stumbling through the darkness, because you will have the light that leads to life." ¹

To purchase Giclée reproductions of Sunflower and Silent Night where the proceeds are donated, visit the Watercolor by Pamela Specials page. And to learn more about the Russian orphans, visit the Russian Ministries web site.

Bible Reference:

¹ John 8:12 (New Living Translation)

Photo credits for Sunflower and Silent Night: Sergey of Russian Ministries.

 As I reviewed my Monday morning chore list, the following words dropped into my mind– “Religion that God our Father accepts as pure and faultless is this: to look after orphans and widows in their distress.”¹ Immediately, my elderly friend came to mind. She lived a lonely existence and needed someone to visit her—someone like me.

I tried to ignore the prompting. After all, I had already planned out my morning. And driving across town to encourage an elderly widow wasn’t on my list. But the words “look after widows in their distress” persisted.

While throwing a load of laundry in the washer, I began to think about how I really wanted a religion that God accepted. But once more the demands of the morning won my attention, and I headed for my computer to check my email.

As I sat down at my desk, again the words “look after widows” vied for my attention. Finally, I realized that God’s Spirit was whispering. Perhaps God had a different assignment for me that day. So I grabbed my purse and car keys and headed out the door.

When I got to the nursing home, I spied my friend in the dining room, attending a group session. The receptionist told me that I could interrupt the class to get my friend. So I did. And I wheeled her to her room.

After settling in her room, my friend sighed and smiled. She told me how glad she was to see me. She then explained that the group class had been playing some silly guessing game about animals.

Smiling, I said, “Looks like I rescued you.”

She chuckled. “Thank you so much.”

Later when my sons came home from school, I told them about my morning at a nursing home. I shared how my elderly friend cried, feeling lonely and discouraged as she faced several difficult hurdles. After listing some of her struggles, I added, “And her hospital bed is broken and her pillow is lumpy.”

Learning to Put Others First

Listening intently, Nate, my11-year-old, exclaimed, “Mom, your friend can have my pillow. I have two. And I only need one.” Then he bounded out the door to play.

As I rotated the load of laundry, I checked another chore off my list. But then it hit me. If I had ignored the inner tug earlier that morning, I would have missed Monday’s gift: A young boy’s generous heart.

Bible Reference:

¹ James 1:27

Merry Christmas and Happy New Year from Watercolor by Pamela.

Silent Night

Silent night, holy night,
Son of God, love’s pure light;
Radiant beams from Thy holy face
With the dawn of redeeming grace,
Jesus, Lord, at Thy birth,
Jesus, Lord, at Thy birth.

Stille Nacht, heilige Nacht!
Die der Welt Heil gebracht,
Aus des Himmels goldenen Höhn,
Uns der Gnaden Fülle läßt sehn,
Jesum in Menschengestalt,
Jesum in Menschengestalt!

(3rd Stanza)
Josef Mohr, cir­ca 1816-1818

Photo credit for Silent Night: Sergey of Russian Ministries

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.

On December 5 at my art exhibition at the David DeJonge Gallery and Studio, my youngest son selected the winning registration for the prize give away drawing. Out of 72 participants, he drew Kathy’s name.

I would like to thank everyone who participated in the drawing and congratulate Kathy for winning a free art print. For her free print, Kathy (shown left) selected my newest painting, entitled, Stillness.

In November of 2009, my painting entitled, Discovery, joined the public collection at the Helen DeVos Children’s Hospital. I requested that my painting would be displayed in the Neonatal Intensive Care Unit (NICU ) because all three of our sons spent their first days in intensive care nurseries.

After 17 difficult days in the cardiac unit of the Children’s Hospital of Philadelphia, our first son finally came home. We also battled for our second son’s life for 23 days in Swedish Hospital of Denver. And our third son spent two days in the Helen DeVos Children’s Hospital of Grand Rapids.

Although all three of our sons experienced traumatic births, each one enjoys health today. But I know the tears and pain of the mothers, pacing the NICU halls because with each son’s birth, I, too, had to walk through the path of suffering.

Note: To commemorate this painting, I have dedicated it to my dear father-in-law. Near the painting, a small plaque reads: “In honor of my father-in-law, one of the kindest men I have ever met.”

Pamela is currently painting a series of Russian orphan children, entitled Children of the Russian Arctic. Some of these children have lost both parents. However, many of these children carry the label—“social orphans"—because of their parent’s alcohol abuse or other serious circumstance.

Russian Ministries has invited Pamela to partner with them to help send these Soviet orphans to summer camp where they’ll play games, learn to swim, and watch puppet shows about Bible stories.

During the next months, as a way to say “thank you,” Russian Ministries will give away one of Pamela’s fine art Giclée prints to each donor. Look for more details in January of 2010.

[Jesus said], ‘I tell you the truth,whatever you did for one of the least of these…you did for Me.’ Matthew 25:40

For more information, visit the Russian Ministries web site.

My tongue lit a forest fire. When I opened my mouth, fire and smoke spewed out like a fire breathing dragon. One of my friends began discussing her most embarrassing moments. And without thinking, I joined in.

But my comments brought the conversation to a new low as I mentioned a scandalous situation about a public figure. Unsurprisingly, my words ignited a blaze of comments. Fueled by me and my big mouth, the conversation intensified, destroying everything in its path.

Moments later, I realized the damage. In a quick attempt to douse the flames, I changed the subject. And the conversation was finally extinguished.

But the embers still smoldered. The irreversible damage had left its ugly mark; my words had blackened the tone of the morning.

Only three hours before, I had asked God to help me control my mouth. But then, I blew it again. Later while driving home, my conscience whispered, “Guilty.”

I once read that if you say “I am sorry” every time you say something you shouldn’t, you will eventually learn to think before you speak. Though I sometimes forget, I am trying to put that idea into practice. Consequently, I decided my course of action the next time I met with my friends: Apologize for gossiping. 

Accepting responsibility

A week later when I saw my friends, I explained what I had done and then said, “I’m sorry for gossiping.” Although one of my friends quickly dismissed my apology, I knew that I had needed to do it. As new life eventually transforms a scorched landscape, I seized the opportunity to plant seeds of encouraging words.

My son’s painting, Orange Flowers, reminds me of the powerful impact of positive words. Though the colors of orange and yellow make up the same colors as a destructive fire—when carefully arranged—they also make a beautiful bouquet. Because of this difficult lesson with my mouth, I took the next opportunity to use my words to plant seeds of beauty. And from the old ashes, God caused new life to sprout.

Painting on right: Orange Flowers by my son, Nate (age 9) - Tissue paper on paper