This painting was inspired by Paul’s writing in 1 Corinthians 13:12, “For now we see through a glass darkly; but then face to face: now I know in part, but then shall I know even as also I am known.” We do not get to see the whole picture. Much of our future and our past is kept hidden from us. While at first this may be disappointing, our blindness helps us to develop faith in God. We must trust that the Lord knows who we are and what we need to experience. When I am discouraged by unforeseen turns in the road, I can remember that while I may not fully understand now, God knows and in time will reveal His purposes to me.
This scripture garnered more meaning for me when I struggled with diminished eyesight due to an autoimmune disease. I literally saw through a glass darkly with the possibility that I would lose my sight completely. All I could do was the best I could with the sight I had. I chose to exercise faith in Christ, who promises us peace now and clarity someday.
This painting began with a stained glass motif, hearkening back to cathedrals and their use of colored windows to beautify and instruct. Stained glass may indeed be magnificent, but illuminate a space it does not. Hence it was perfect as the background for seeing “through a glass darkly.” Next I put a little devil on the left enticing Priscilla (she named herself as I developed her) to listen to him and a little angel on the right entreating Priscilla to listen to him. Priscilla in her dark glasses pauses in a moment of indecision. It appears that she will pay heed to the angel. I dressed Priscilla in this rather dark poncho to illustrate how difficult it is to understand who we truly are in our mortal experience. We get a glimpse of the flamboyant blossoming of her character, but it’s mostly hidden. I added a suggestion of a halo around Priscilla to remind us how this process of choosing to follow the light we receive can eventually make us holy.
Initially I had the angel and the demon on opposite sides. I thought the angel should be on Priscilla’s right and the devil on her left. It just wasn’t working, though. When I moved the angel to the objective right of the painting, rather than the subjective right in relation to the individual, somehow the painting came together. I came to the realization that they should be switched because it more clear to the outside observer which choice is right than for the person in the thick of it.
