THE MOTHER OF WEST.

O wondrous power! how little understood –
   Entrusted to the mother’s mind alone-
To fashion genius, form the soul for good,
Inspire a West, or train a Washington.
                                                                        Mrs. Hale

When Benjamin West was seven years old, he was left, one summer day, with the charge of an infant niece. As it lay in the cradle and he was engaged in fanning away the flies, the motion of the fan pleased the child, and caused it to smile. Attracted by the charms thus created, young West felt his instinctive passion aroused; and seeing paper, pen and some red and black ink on a table, he eagerly seized them and made his first attempt at portrait painting. Just as he had finished his maiden task, his mother and sister entered. He tried to conceal what he had done, but his confusion arrested his mother’s attention, and she asked him what he had been doing. With reluctance and timidity, he handed her the paper, begging, at the same time, that she would not be offended. Examining the drawing for a short time, she turned to her daughter and, with a smile, said, “I declare, he has made a likeness of Sally.” She then gave him a fond kiss, which so encouraged him that he promised her some drawings of the flowers which she was then holding, if she wished to have them.

The next year a cousin sent him a box of colors and pencils, with large quantities of canvas prepared for the easel, and half a dozen engravings. Early in the morning after their reception, he took all his materials into the garret, and for several days forgot all about school. His mother suspected that the box was the cause of his neglect of his books, and going into the garret and finding him busy at a picture, she was about to reprimand him; but her eye fell on some of his compositions, and her anger cooled at once. She was so pleased with them that she loaded him with kisses and promised to secure his father’s pardon for his neglect of school.

How much the world is indebted to Mrs. West for her early and constant encouragement of the immortal artist. He often used to say, after his reputation was established, “My mother’s kiss made me a painter!”

______

Excerpted from Noble Deeds of American Women
(Patriotic Series for Boys and Girls)
Edited by J. Clement
——
With an Introduction by Mrs. L. H. Sigourney
Illustrated
BOSTON: Lee and Shepard, Publishers
Entered by Act of Congress, in the year of 1851,
by E. H. Derby and Co., in the Clerk’s Office of the Northern District of New York
______

I Am A…

Recently, in conversation, I said the words, “I’m a blogger.”

I understand that what you’re about to read seems ridiculous. Stay with me.

My own words caught me off guard. I mean, I AM a blogger; I’ve been blogging for years here and on my previous site. Regardless, after saying those words out loud, I had the same epiphany I did when I realized that I not only wrote but was, in fact, an author. It was a bit of a delightful shock.

“And you are sharing this today because…?” you ask? I will answer happily!

Frankly, this is the perfect opportunity to remind you to own what you are. Do you write? Then you are a writer! True, you may not be a published author yet, but that has no bearing on the fact that you are a genuine, bona fide writer.

Do you create art? You are an artist! Whether or not you’ve ever sold anything means nothing. Even if you’ve never shown a single piece of your art to another human being, you are an artist. Own that you are an artist! Delight in it! Enjoy being what you are.

Yes, I realize skill is a measurable thing and many judge “what we are” by the skills we currently possess. Many believe that unless you’ve been published, you’re not a writer. Many are convinced that if your creations aren’t art by their definition, you are not an artist. I get it. I’ve said myself that I’m not an artist even though many have tried to call me one. I have the skills required to copy a picture, but not to create one; by my definition, that makes me a copyist, not an artist.

But I’ve been a blogger since I published my very first blog post. It wouldn’t matter if no one read what I wrote, I would still be a blogger. I just had to be reminded of this fact, because I’d fallen into judging myself as a blogger by the number of people my blog reaches. My blog community is growing, so I’ve felt more like a blogger lately than I have in a while…which is absurd.

God has planted within each of us the potential to be many things, and we get to choose which of those things we will be. Do some have more innate talent than others in certain areas? Of course, I’m not belittling this fact. I’m just saying that we all have potential. As believers, we should be actively drawing out that potential and using it to His glory, and we should believe in ourselves as we do.

But even if you don’t believe in God, those gifts, those desires, those drives to BE, are still there waiting for you to act on and own them. Don’t sell yourself short. Don’t allow doubt, either your own or someone else’s, to drag you down.

I’ve noticed it’s become a thing to ask people what advice you would give your younger self. Often you hear such things as, “Don’t give up on your dreams,” and “Never stop believing in yourself.” I think it’s time to flip the script and let your younger self talk to you. If blogging were a thing when I was young, as soon as child Tammy hit publish on her first blog post, no matter how good or bad anyone else thought it was, she would have grinned and said, “I’m a blogger!” And, though she had only just taken her very first step, she would have been right.

So, with this in mind, I urge you to invite your inner child, that preschooler who knew without a doubt he or she could accomplish anything they wanted, to come out and have a chat. Let that younger you give today’s you the courage to own what you already are, to declare with confidence, “I am a…!”

Once you convince yourself, there’s no telling what you can do.

Celebrating Jesus!
Tammy C

Who’s in Your Corner?

I was honored, today, by being asked to take on a new ministry responsibility. I accepted readily, because I believe in my boss’ ability to hear from God. That does not mean I was confident in my own ability to fulfill the role.

I immediately leapt into studying and preparation, but even after more encouragement from she who asked me, I had doubts about me. So after work I played it smart and texted my sister asking for prayer. She agreed to pray, but she also sent the following.

“I remember how scared you were before your first speaking engagement at a conference. And look how you came through that.

“I remember how scared you were before you got your job at Bath and Bodyworks and you rocked it.

“Need I go on?”

She didn’t need to. Those reminders of past victories were all it took. She Who Is Always In My Corner came through for me again.

We all need someone who’s in our corner, someone we can rely on for encouragement and pep talks. (Likewise, we need to be the same for others.)

Who’s in your corner?

Celebrating Jesus!

Tammy C

Help the Weak. Be Patient with Everyone.

Two solid weeks of sick do not make for a blog that stays current.

The first week I was on vacation, and the second week I went to work feeling like I hardly had two brain cells to rub together, wanting nothing more than to go home and crawl back into bed. Honestly, I don’t know how I got my work done at all. So yeah, everything else flew out the window.

Now that my brain is actively working again, I’m thinking about the spiritually weak, those who are so sick with worry that they can hardly function, whose lives seem to be in such a tailspin that they feel they hardly have two brain cells to rub together, and the ones who are so in need that they can’t even think to ask for help. 1 Thessalonians 5:14 tells us, “We urge you, brethren, admonish the unruly, encourage the fainthearted, help the weak, be patient with everyone.”

My sister was that help while we were on vacation together. What should have been at least a decent visit with her son was severely damaged by what we at first thought were only allergies (made unimaginably worse by the two flights it took to get to Las Vegas from Houston) and the fact that I could only go and do for so long before collapsing. There was no doing all the fun stuff that we had been looking into. Nonetheless, she showed that patience Paul talks about here. She was a nurturer and encourager. She was everything I needed her to be. Likewise, the people I work with were incredibly encouraging and patient with me last week as I crept through the days feeling mostly like a failure. I am surrounded by wonderful people.

So… What about me? Am I one of those wonderful people? Am I like my sister, giving encouragement, nurturing, and helping those who are weak? Am I like my co-workers, who patiently put up with my constant coughing, nose blowing, and failure to accomplish great things? I would like to think so, but I’m stepping back right now and doing some serious assessing of the person I look at in the mirror.

I want to like her. I want to respect her. I want to know that she reaches out in honesty and sincerity at all times. I want to know that her heart genuinely loves people and she doesn’t allow impatience to color her actions, or busyness to keep her from reaching out to the fainthearted and weak. Shoot, I want to know she’s so sensitive to what’s going on around her that she notices!

It’s amazing what being sick can teach you.

Celebrating Jesus!
Tammy C

Self-confidence

Copyright Tammy Cardwell 2014
Copyright Tammy Cardwell 2014

The portrait you’re looking at took me so long to complete that the one who commissioned it could have had a baby while she waited. Why did it take me so ridiculously long to finish such a simple piece? Was I so overbooked with commissions that my pencil couldn’t fly fast enough?

Hardly.

This commission came in while I was working on a special piece for an auction. The image, which happened to be of Jesus, had been in my head for years and I was excited to draw it. The auction supports great ministries, and I was thrilled to be able to contribute. Everything was going perfectly. The wood of the cross looked awesome. The clothing draped just right. The hands were amazing. and then I got to the head and face; these were my undoing. No matter how hard I worked, how much I reworked, I simply could not get it right. And then I ran out of time.

I “finished” the drawing, but even as I took it to the framer I was ashamed of it. It wasn’t just bad; it was humiliatingly, publicly bad. That it sold for less than I’d paid to have it framed was no surprise; I was glad it brought anything at all – and hoped that everyone would forget I’d produced anything so regrettable.

I have no idea how many pencil portraits I’ve done through the years, but I’ve drawn enough that I feel confident in saying I’m good at what I do. Even so, this whole experience shattered my self-confidence. the wise thing would have been to pick my pencils right back up and start on something else – anything else – but I didn’t. It was many months before I could bring myself to even pull out my supplies. Admittedly, laziness and procrastination were factors in the delay, but they were fed by fear of failure.

Strange as it may seem, I share this story to encourage you. How many singers have had their confidence hammered after blowing the National Anthem on the Little League field? How many young dancers have been ready to quit after going left while everyone else danced gracefully to the right? How many aspiring thespians have considered switching to Botany after mangling a monologue? It happens to the best of us.

Sometimes, hopefully most of the time, we’re able to stand back up, brush ourselves off, and get back to it. Then there are the times when we lie there, paralyzed for a while before something gives us the strength to rise again.

Swiftly or slowly (Swiftly is so much better!), the key is to DO IT. When hit with such a blow, we need to be like David who, after discovering the destruction at Ai, encouraged himself (1 Sam 30:6) and managed to get up and do the next thing – and he recovered all that had been lost. Fear is a terrible enemy, but we can conquer it. YOU can!

I’m not proud of how long it took me to complete this portrait. I am, however, proud of the work; it is every bit as good as I knew (somewhere inside) it could be. I am also grateful for the amazing patience of the friend who commissioned it, and for the vitally important lesson I’ve learned once again.

“Down” is not someplace anyone wants to be, especially over something so absurd. I’ve decided that, should such a thing happen again, I will take a page from David’s book and encourage myself (or read myself the Riot Act). I have to; there’s another picture waiting to be drawn!

Celebrating Jesus!
Tammy C