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She Sang Out Loud

Last evening I picked up this painting called, "She sang out loud..." and some other paintings I had taken to be reprinted and scanned. I painted "She sings out Loud" with feelings and thoughts about beautiful people who struggle in this world. Those who are hard pressed. Not always living a easy life. Often pressed on every side. About those who are touched deeply by sin's hard blows, but still walk tall, their heads in the clouds, singing out loud. They make the days brighter wherever they go. Creative, strong, imaginative, beautiful, powerful and brave. Even when they are cast down, they are not destroyed. They rise up. They sing again.

I believe this is how Katelyn Luce Wilson was. I didn't know her. But I feel I knew her somehow through her parent's and other's testimonies. I read her words, watched her faith and witnessed her clinging onto Jesus. I saw photos of her loving and holding her little daughter.  I saw she was surrounded by many who greatly loved her. She was a new young mom. A passionate, brilliant, loving, young, spiritual warrior taken so soon. Leaving family and friends to grieve. 

Around the same time Katelyn died, so did another vibrant young lady, Maddy, and a strong, young man,Fisher, then my brother-in-law, Tag. I was shocked and saddened. Their voices silenced by death. Their loved ones left, crushed by pain. 

So on this Mother's Day, this painting was given to Katelyn Luce Wilson's mama. A mama left to sing where Katelyn left off. She grieves, but I bet she lifts up her head to Heaven, praying for a song to sing as she longs for her girl. A song for Jesus to please come soon. I think it is hard to sing when your heart is broken, so with this loving, grieving mother, we join to sing with her, and soon the angels will sing with her too when Jesus comes again. When He will breathe new life and new songs into her, and into all the others, who have been sleeping as well. The crying will be turned to laughter. All the mourning will turn to joyful singing out loud. Forever.

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