Guided Like Oxen

Not long ago, as I laid in bed before ending my day, I had a thought. I was reading a chapter of Psalms. The thought was a metaphor for the way in which God might "guide" us. As a Christian, I often hear people say things like, "I felt God guiding me" or "God led me to do this or that." I've always taken those statements with a touch of skepticism. I do believe that God "guides" us, but I guess I'm still trying to figure out exactly how he guides us. This metaphoric thought has stuck with me long enough that I thought I should write it down. And so I type.

Here was the thought: in my mind, I saw oxen in a field, pulling a plow. The path was laid out for them. They knew where to go. The oxen really didn't even need a farmer behind them. The path was clear and they knew to follow it. That thought led me to a recent memory. While on a mission trip to India last year, I saw oxen pulling sugar-cane wagons along the road. The amazing thing was that the drivers were typically lying atop the sugar cane, asleep at the wheel. The oxen knew to follow the paved road. Their path was clear. They didn't even need a driver to direct them from the fields to their final destination; they just knew to follow the road. It was pretty astonishing.

Could this be how God "guides" us?

Within our free will, are there "paths" in our lives that are clear and that we should follow? Does God lay out the path, leaving it up to us to take it or to go another way? Without a path, we could go any number of ways—left, right, north, south. When it's clear, much of the confusion is removed from life's mysterious path. I found comfort in those thoughts. When we pray and trust in this God, maybe he will guide us. To paraphrase Leo Tolstoy, we may walk drunkenly along the path sometimes, but that doesn't mean it's the wrong path.

My Art Museum Is A Panera Bread

While I was in college, I studied fine art. I've always considered myself an artist. I am always seeing the world from an artistic set of eyes. In college, we were encouraged to visit as many art museums as possible. For art students in a small West Virginia town in the state's eastern panhandle, that meant that we should take full advantage of school bus trips to Baltimore or Washington, D.C. Though I enjoyed seeing museums in Baltimore, Washington, and even New York City, I must admit I wasn't truly inspired by the art I was taking in. Don't get me wrong. I appreciated classic paintings at the National Museum of Art and even some of the SoHo district's contemporary installations. It's just that I felt those particular pieces didn't reflect the type of artwork that I found appealing.

As time has passed since my days at Shepherd College, I have become aware of the art that motivates and inspires me. I have found this art in the designs of CD covers that I look at when I'm at Target or Borders. I've found this art on movie posters outside the Kerasotes theater. I find myself wanting to read certain books simply because the cover art is so engaging. This is the art that appeals to me.

This past week I found myself finding an art museum in an unusual place—a Panera Bread in Wheeling, West Virginia. My wife and I stopped at this Panera for a quick lunch on a long trip back to our home in Indiana. It was a new Panera store, and the large seating area and décor immediately reflected this when we entered. As I sat down with my food, I noticed some charcoal pencil drawings framed on the wall. They were rough sketches of a Panera bread-baker at work, kneading dough, icing scones, preparing desserts, and so forth. I thought the sketches' minimal use of detail provided a perfect amount of intimacy and beauty. After our meal, as were were walking around to refill our drinks, I saw a sepia-toned photo of a loaf of bread. It was shot in such a way as to highlight the detail of the bread in a very charming manner. I was impressed at how a photograph of bread could be so attractive. I then noticed a quilt hanging on the wall. It wasn't that it was a quilt so much as it was a rich display of autumn colors, each square of the quilt possessing its own portion of the season. As a graphic artist, I appreciated how those different colors complimented each other. As one single color, they are not very impressive, but to combine them shows their true beauty and significance.

As I think about it more, I realize that art museums sometimes intimidate me. There's a feeling that if I don't understand the work that I'm viewing, then maybe I'm not really an artist at heart. Shouldn't an artist enjoy art museums? Art, of course, is everywhere. I found my art museum at a Panera Bread. It took finding it at Panera for me to realize that art is always subjective. I relate to art that reflects my faith, my heart, and my passions and I will continue to enjoy finding it in the most unlikely places.