The Christ Painting

During my college days, my friend, a pre-law student, approached me and asked, "Gail, can you help me with a mural of Jesus for the fellowship group?"

"I've taken an art class, but I can't draw. I only know how to paint in the abstract."

"It doesn't matter," he said. "Before I came to Christ, I couldn't even draw a straight line, but God gave me a gift. Just make yourself available to the Lord, and He can use you."

After pondering his words, I decided to help.

Soon after, something uncanny happened. The flat winter sunlight streamed through my bedroom windows, giving the room a subtle glow.

It's too cold to get out of bed.

As I lingered in my warm bed facedown on my pillow, a picture of a man appeared through the golden rose flower of my pillowcase. The man's eyes were shut and something bright shone next to him. I stared at it slacked-jawed. Then it dawned on me, this man looked like Jesus. We can use this Christ figure for the painting. A very deep peace enveloped me.

I leaped out of bed, grabbed a writing tablet and pencil from my desk, and loped back to my pillow. I tried to sketch the image, but the drawing didn't come close. After a few minutes, I gave up and got ready for school.

When I returned in the evening, I made a beeline to my bedroom and headed straight to my pillow. I gazed at the pillowcase, but the vision of Jesus had vanished.

On another day while studying with my friend in the library, he said, "I had two dreams of the Christ painting. In the first dream, a little Christ figure stood on top of the Mount of Olives. Then a larger image of Jesus appeared in the background, His arms extended out, touching both ends of a large cross. The second dream showed the close-up details."

By the time I joined my friend to help, he had already painted the Christ figure. "Wow! That's a fantastic image of Jesus." I took a closer look and screamed. "You painted the exact image of Jesus I saw through the flower of my pillowcase!" I paused and noticed the bright thing I had seen was the sunrise.

My friend pointed to the outer borders. "Paint stained-glass images with objects inside the borders that represent idols."

I stared at him blankly.

"You know, like money, material things, even sports. They aren't wrong in and of themselves, but when we put them ahead of God, they trap us and become idols in God's eyes."

Giving it deep thought, I painted a stack of books to represent exalting human knowledge over God's. Dipping my brush into the palette, I painted a hand, clutching a $100 bill to represent greed. Halfway through, I nearly dropped my brush.

"Oh, no! I accidently painted six fingers." After struggling for some time, I painstakingly fixed it.

My friend said, "The hand is pointing in the wrong direction. It should point toward the Mount of Olives."

I let out an exasperated sigh.

"Gail, surrender your brush to the Lord."

"Uh . . . what?" I was new to the faith and clueless.

"Let the Lord into the painting."

His words didn't make sense to me, but I prayed, "Lord, I surrender my brush to You." I aimlessly slapped paint over the old hand, letting out my frustrations. Inexplicably, a perfect hand with five fingers formed pointing toward the Mount of Olives. I couldn't believe what I saw.

Then I began to help my friend paint the Mount of Olives. Without any effort, a narrow, straight road miraculously appeared before my eyes. It led upward to the summit where Jesus stood. I gawked.

My friend later told me that Jesus was praying for His people and a tear was rolling down His cheek. I wondered why.

On the far left side, I dabbed paint on the cliffs, and a wide road supernaturally appeared and led to a dead-end.

My eyes stretched wide. Is this what surrendering the brush means? A verse came to mind about the narrow and wide roads.

"Enter through the narrow gate, for wide is the gate and broad is the road that leads to destruction, and many enter through it. But small is the gate and narrow the road that leads to life, and only a few find it. (Matthew 7:13-14 NIV)

As I reflected on these verses, I understood why Jesus wept. I focused on the stark contrast between the two roads. The narrow road-hard to find and even harder to stay on-led to Jesus and eternal life. It is the only way to heaven.

The wide road--easy, crowded, and enticing--represents a path apart from God's plan when we choose to go our own way. It has eternal consequences too devastating to imagine.

My heart ached for those on the wide road. The contrast is undeniable, the message unmistakable: God's invitation is open to all-but the choice rests with each of us.

After two months of long evenings and weekends, we completed the painting. Three USC art professors rated the painting as genius. Despite the accolades, my friend humbly said, "God used our hands, and all the credit goes to Him."

Knowing this wasn't just art but a moment that urges each heart to face its most important choice-a decision that echoes into the infinite expanse of eternity.
The painting seemed to whisper, almost plead: Choose wisely. Choose love. Choose Jesus.

Over time, I had wallet-sized, Christ Card tracts made of this painting, which ministries and churches use. Whenever I have the opportunity I distribute the card to seekers. The back of the card contains the ABCs of Christianity and a prayer to receive God's gift of eternal salvation. The cards have been translated into multiple languages, each translation contains a website address with resources that include Bibles, video clips, movies, Father's Love Letter, etc.

Jesus said to him, "I am the way, the truth, and the life. No one comes to the Father except through Me. (John 14:6 NKJV)

Christian to help you get started.

The Christ Painting story is contained in two books, Popcorn Miracles and Kernels of Hope.