Discoveries

Yesterday a group of girls from my floor planned to drive to a museum called The Getty for a day of fun. Upon revealing this information to a friend of mine, he informed me that I had to search out the Van Gogh painting that takes up residence there. So, obsessive person that I evidently am, as we set off for the museum I had one singular mission: find the Van Gogh. A few things got in the way of this mission, the greatest of which being when one of our cars broke down. By the grace of God we were off of the freeway when it happened and managed to pull over to the side of the road, where we asked a lot of questions as to what had happened ("What did it feel like?" "What sound did it make?" "Can it start?" "Can the lights turn on?") examined the engine, and finally determined that we were a bunch of girls and had no idea what happened or what we were doing. Luckily we were only about a block from the museum, so after a little under an hour, a lot of phone calls, and extended discussions with a somewhat impatient tow-truck driver, a ride was arranged and we were on our way into the museum.

We took a tram from the parking structure to the actual museum, and while marveling at the scenery and enjoying how being on a tram can remind one of Disneyland, I was reminding myself of my mission: find the Van Gogh. As a step toward accomplishing this I systematically informed everyone in our group that our day would not be complete until I had found this painting. So off we went. The museum itself was stunning, the view was breath-taking, the sculptures were splendid, the paintings were jaw-dropping. And as I was admiring each step, sculpture, and brushstroke I was quietly calling, "Van Gogh, where are you?"

After much searching, we found it. I will admit to you, dear readers, that I was a little disappointed, not by the painting itself, but by the fact that it was one I had seen pictures of many times before. I realized I had been hoping for a great discovery--a new revelation--in this painting, and finding that it was one that I had seen before I felt this hope was lost. But as I stepped closer and tried to take in every part of that painting, my disappointment started to melt. Hope was not lost. For there, in those brushstrokes was color, beauty, and life, all wrapped up in paint and stuck to a canvas. I found myself smiling at the way the figures in the painting seemed to dance, and laughing at the mistakes the artist has painted over but not fully erased. In Proverbs 25:2 Solomon tells us, "It is the glory of God to conceal a matter; to search out a matter is the glory of kings." I don't know if Van Gogh meant to conceal joy in his painting, but it seems to me that God did. And finding it there I couldn't help but feel ever so slightly like royalty.

Truly His,
Caroline