The Beautiful Friendship Behind Kathren’s Cloud: A True Story of Love and Faith

There was a time when I spent hours every week at the easel, painting and sketching. I did it for enjoyment, but I also pushed myself to improve. I hired an art teacher. I learned about composition and experimented with study after study, tweaking this technique or that. I flipped through art books to gain more from the masters, and I meandered through local art shows to glean from contemporary painters. I wanted to excel as much as possible, with the brush—or colored pencil—between my teeth.

As my schedule picked up with ministry responsibilities, my time at the easel was more infrequent. And then, when chronic pain became my daily companion, only a rare day would see me wheeling up to my easel. I was just not able to crane my neck this way and that in order to daub paint where it needed to go. Over time, my art studio has transitioned from a place of creating to a place of encouraging others, and I am okay with that. When adults tour my studio, I like to teach them short art lessons, and I love handing out crayons to the boys and girls who visit!

At a recent Family Retreat, I offered the same kind of encouragement when I wheeled into a painting class for special-needs moms. I was there to cheer on the women as they sat before their table easels and experimented with colorful acrylics. I slowly wheeled in between them, quietly commenting on the scenes taking shape on their canvases. Everyone was happily at work, and I loved thinking of how these mothers were getting a fun break from their usual caregiver roles.

Once or twice, my thoughts flitted back to times when I would sit in front of my own easel and canvas. My friend Kathren (who was with me that day) noticed how I kept glancing at a stack of blank canvases resting beside little containers of paint. There I was, assuming that my purpose for the day was to encourage others, when Kathren suddenly offered some encouragement of her own.

“Joni, I think you should join these women and paint something!”

She caught me off guard and I replied,

“It’s a great idea, but there’s no way I would be able to reach those table easels holding a brush between my teeth!”

“I can solve that,” she said with a smile.

In no time she stuck a brush in my mouth and became my “easel!” She stood with her legs braced and firmly held a blank canvas, steady enough—and close enough—so I could paint. Every couple of minutes or so, Kathren would sanitize more brushes with alcohol wipes, put them in my mouth, and then reach for different paints as I directed her. I experienced the sheer joy I used to feel when I was in my studio! And I felt unbelievably blessed by her practical way of loving me, as well as her self-sacrifice (her arms had to hurt)! It was the epitome of true encouragement.

And we had such fun! I wasn’t worried about getting each stroke just so, nor which of the classical masters I might emulate. Between my pain levels and Kathren’s job to stand still, I knew I needed to just jump in and paint! When I finished, we were both pleased with the results.

Looking at this work of art, you might not be able to tell one of its biggest ironies. I did not paint any clouds. Instead, I painted the blue sky around the clouds until their shapes appeared in the negative space of the white canvas.

That technique, called negative space painting, reminds me of what happened that day. I came into that room to encourage others in their artistic pursuits and to highlight the joy of creating. But I left surprised by what took shape in me, what encouragement I received, what joy I experienced with a brush, paints, and canvas.

Ephesians 2:10 says, “For we are God’s handiwork, created in Christ Jesus to do good works, which God prepared in advance for us to do.”

So much of the way God forms us comes from how we engage with the good works he has prepared for us.

We may think our service to others leaves us “untouched” like an empty canvas, but just as the clouds took shape from their interaction with blue sky, so we are formed by our interaction with those in need around us.

So let this heartwarming story be a reminder—whether you give to others through self-sacrifice or through your encouragement, one day you will see the beautiful design God has worked in you through your service to others. And, oh, what glory you’ll be able to give God!

One more thing: when we left that painting class, I turned to Kathren and said, “You know how it says Luke 6, ‘Give, and it will be given to you’? Well, you gave me the best gift possible today—you gave yourself. So, here,” I said as I presented her the painting, “It’s yours. And I proudly name it Kathren’s Clouds.” And it happily hangs in her Idaho home.

-Joni Eareckson Tada