"Aftermath"
22"x28"
Oil and Acrylic on Canvas
I’ve just had a God moment. Some
months ago, I painted this girl. I never intended to. I had no
direction, and no reason. I just did it. While painting, I had
difficulty concentrating on technique because of the emotion that was
running through me. Upon completion, my husband came in and gazed at
her. I asked him to title the painting. He called it “Aftermath”.
It meant some things to me, but ever since I have had an unsettled
feeling in the pit of my stomach. Even last night, sitting by the
fire I looked upon her face, and thought of what she may have come
through. I had that feeling in my stomach. I’ve questioned the
Lord as to the reason for the painting and have heard no answer.
Until now. Until now! Just now, I was
reading in 2 Samuel 13. Why now? I don’t know. God’s always on
time. That’s what I know. The chapter tells the horrifying story
of Tamar, the daughter of a high king; the daughter that dressed in
finery and was a well throught of woman in those days. She was
somebody. King David was her daddy. She must have been beautiful as
she baked bread for her brother, Amnon. The story goes that he fell
in love with her devised a deceptive plan, and raped her after she
begged him not to. He did it anyway. Then, he threw her out and
bolted the door behind her. She was so distraught that she tore her
beautiful robe and put ashes on her head as she ran away crying for
help!
To make matters worse, her other
brother (half) Absalom instructed her not to take it to heart;
because it was her brother who had done this. He told her to be
quiet. Scripture says that she lived in Absalom’s house, a
“desperate” woman. She had no more hope. No hope of marrying.
No hope of having a life, or children.
Tamar would experience the “aftermath”
of not only being violated but being “shut up”, and having no
voice. She would live in depression as her very soul was now rooted
in the vile, foul sexual immorality passed down from the sin of her
father. She would live with the rejection which scripture says was
worse than the crime. She would have no one to stand for her, or
speak for her. She was hopless.
I’m reminded that the holiday season
often times, brings such depression for those people suffering in the
“aftermath”. My heart grieves for those that are shut-up for
whatever reason...whether it’s guilt, shame, threat, or
helplessness. I know that confession brings freedom. My prayer is
that all of those that are afflicted with depression from a wrong
done to them would find their voice, and find freedom. There are
resources today to help with that voice. I pray that they are found!
Amen!
