I was watching an artist painting a caricature of a young man seated in front of him in Leicester Square, London, one evening. His client had no clue as to how he was portraying him on the paper, but to all of the onlookers, the distortions and twisted outlines of what was supposed to be his better features brought only amusement and laughter. I certainly would not wish to sit for this scribbler, for his work was only derogatory and a deliberate misinterpretation of the truth.
The fact is, we are all being painted and presented in so many different ways by so many different people in life. Some of those images have influenced our thinking and left lasting impressions upon us, not necessarily for good or constructive use. We may actually be living our lives by the pictures which we have been told represent us, but in truth, have nothing whatsoever to do with the reality of who we are in God. The devil loves to get us to believe the negative and hopeless image that he paints of us, and having convinced us he is right, he then sells it to us so that we can hang it in front of our faces day by day.
I had been looking at all those portraits that others painted of me, and having looked at them so often, I came to believe that the artist’s impressions must have been right. Their images became my mirror, so I stopped looking some time ago because I did not like what I saw.
But they are a lie of the great Accuser and his mocking slaves (most of whom are the 'religious' ones). That which they painted is but an unloving imagination of their own hearts, and worse still, perhaps a reflection of their own secret lives. They use their brushes to mock and despise, to ridicule and belittle that which they are afraid of. It is time to cast down their imaginations and their high thoughts of presumption against the child of God (2Corinthians 10:5). It is time to tear down the accuser’s depictions from where they have been hung for so long, douse them with petrol, and burn them with fire.
Somewhere today, amongst the grime of this world, walking the streets through the contamination of this evil age, a prince of Heaven presses resolutely forward (Genesis 32:28), and a messenger of the Highest is just a set of clothes away from being seen to be the heavenly ambassador he actually is! (1John 3:1-2; Romans 8:19).
Somebody painted me as a failure:
God paints me as a hero!
Somebody painted me as sinful:
God paints me as righteous!
Somebody painted me as a loser:
God paints me as an over-comer!
Somebody painted me as a tramp:
God paints me as a prince!
Somebody painted me as a backslider
God paints me as a man of God!
Somebody painted me as unwanted:
God paints me as loved and welcomed by all of Heaven!
Somebody painted me as outside the ‘church’:
God paints me as chosen, anointed, and called amongst His beloved!
Somebody painted me as poor:
God paints me as an heir to all that Christ owns!
Somebody painted me as a cripple and broken:
God paints me as whole and healed!
Somebody painted me as insignificant:
God paints me as indispensable!
Somebody painted me without a future:
God paints me with the world at my fingertips!
Somebody painted me as one without a ministry:
God paints me as an living oracle, and a trumpet of truth!
Somebody painted me as one who has no influence:
God paints me as a ruler over the nations!
Somebody painted me as lost and lonely:
God paints me as seated right next to Him in heavenly places!
God paints me as seated right next to Him in heavenly places!
Let the mockers ridicule, the comedians laugh, the religious criticize, and the false prophets tell their stories. Let the 'holier-than-thou' hypocrites walk in their own delusion and slander; and let the jealous and bitter hearts wag their tongues and spread their bile;
but God himself is my glory, and He is the lifter up of my head; and I will not be afraid of the multitude of enemies that wish to see me destroyed. God is my strength and my fortress. You have to get past Him before you can get to me.
God has a portrait of me that outshines all the miserable faces of the miserable half-converted artists that sit in church on Sundays gossiping about the people they are jealous of or who they just simply hate.
but God himself is my glory, and He is the lifter up of my head; and I will not be afraid of the multitude of enemies that wish to see me destroyed. God is my strength and my fortress. You have to get past Him before you can get to me.
God has a portrait of me that outshines all the miserable faces of the miserable half-converted artists that sit in church on Sundays gossiping about the people they are jealous of or who they just simply hate.
JGM 2019 Telling it like it is
