Archive for Read For Truth Inspired thoughts for wise minds
 


       Read For Truth Forum Index -> Rick Hoerman
Rick

Rick's Allegory

Palette of Life



Once, in the beginning, the Master-Artiste framed our world and stretched canvas over his framework. At first the canvas was void, without form, and full of only darkness.
The Master introduced light onto the canvas and separated light from the darkness and he saw that it was good.

Then he formed substance on the canvas and contrasted substance from shadow. Within the substance he created diversities, and likewise within the shadow.  Once again, he saw that it was good.

Finally, the Master created us. Well, at first there was only One, and he was created in the image of the Artiste himself. The Master intended his work to reflect his own essence, which is the intense love he has for his work. So, he created the One in his image, more than just reflection and substance… he was also given prerogative. It is prerogative that allows the Creator’s love to be reciprocated; yet, it also tragically opened the door to the possibility of the rest of this story…  

At first all was well. By the way, the one that was created in the image of the Master was named Forest, and all was well because Forest submitted his prerogative to the wisdom of the Master-Artiste. Grand developments took form upon the canvas. The diversities that the master placed provided interesting contrast for Forest, and with contrast came a pleasant variety in life. Forest never knew how the light might bounce from diversities and alter not just his surroundings, but how it would impact him deep within.

Originally, Forest was created both Yellow and Blue, and the Master saw that a loving relationship could exist within Forest if prerogative was given to both. So the Master did just that, he separated Blue from Forest and gave Blue prerogative. Blue-One was the most beautiful diversity the Master created. She became the mother of all colors and filled the canvas. The Master named her Azure. Now that Forest was without Blue, his name somehow no longer fit. While he was yellow, it did not seem an appropriate name because Forest was actually quite brave! So, the Master named him Wolley, which of course, is just a different way of looking at yellow.

Life was good for both Azure and Wolley upon the canvas. Both enjoyed their independent relationship fulfilling the Master’s prerogative, and they also enjoyed a co-mingled life with one another. Ironically, when they co-mingled, the original life that Forest experienced was once again realized.

Now, problems first began when Candyapple, one of the Master’s cleverest diversities spoke with Azure as she was moving upon the canvas. Candyapple suggested that if Azure would co-mingle with him, a most splendid result would take place. Well, Azure knew that she was not to assert her prerogative on anything as important as co-mingling, and she told Candyapple that very thing in short order! Candyapple laughed and said “Are you sure you heard correctly? Together we could produce glorious diversities of our own!”

Azure, to be true, was impressed with Candyapple’s brilliance and a little mingling of two so splendid did not seem altogether wrong. After all, Candyapple said the Master was selfish and did not want to share any glory. Believing he may be right, Azure did just what the Master had warned against… she trusted in the words of another rather than trusting in the Master Artiste. The result was at first splendid. In fact, the fruit from their co-mingling was very majestic, and any would agree that it was most pleasing to the eye. Azure for the first time felt proud of her work upon the canvas, and this was different than the satisfaction she felt when the master commended her for her submission to his will.

Wolley immediately knew something was different when he saw Azure. She had a dignity about her that he had only previously seen in the Master. At first it frightened Wolley, but when he asked what she had done, Azure told Wolley that she had co-mingled with Candyapple and that a most splendid outcome had taken place. She encouraged Wolley to mingle with her so she could share this exciting diversity with him. The effects of Candyapple’s mingling with Azure had a lasting effect… Azure was no longer a perfect blue, and Wolley was no longer a pure yellow.

As one would suspect, the Master Artiste noticed the flaw upon his canvas and he asked both Azure and Wolley if they had co-mingled outside of that which he had granted permission. Azure confessed that Candyapple had deceived her into believing that it was for her own good, and of course, Wolley blamed Azure. Ever since the time that Candyapple’s pigment entered through Azure, Wolley became less and less brave.

Well, the Master was none too pleased, because the beauty that once filled the Master’s canvas was becoming a putrid brown. Something had to be done!   The Master quickly removed Azure and Wolley from the canvas before they became too set in their ways. He placed them on his palette, and made certain they stayed there until they were once again pure and fit to dwell upon his canvas.

While on the palette, Azure and Wolley began to co-mingle and they created nice diversities, yet nothing compared to their original glory. In fact, often the fruit of their co-mingling produced diversities that clashed and became jealous of one another’s brilliance. Imagine, they were jealous of the very brilliance that came from Candyapple, which got them into their mess in the first place!

The Master gave strict behavioral instructions for life upon his palette. Few obeyed, and in fact, jealousy and a propensity for non-sanctioned mingling only led to greater clashes. Things got so bad that the Master Artiste decided to wash his palette clean. The Master found only one family of diversities worthy of deliverance, Nat and his companion Indigo. Only they surrendered their prerogatives to his will. So, the Master separated Nat and Indigo from the other diversities and wiped his palette clean. He then reintroduced Nat and his family back onto the palette.

Most of what happened upon the palette was as it was before. There were always clashes when the diversities trusted in their own direction rather than the plans of the Master. Of course, the Master showed great patience; after all, he loved his work very much and forever wanted his creation to seek his will. The Master promised that he would not wipe the palette clean again, but instead he established a special group of diversities to fulfill a specific strategy that he had for his work. The Master called this group the Pastels.  

From first appearance there was very little significance with this group. They were not brilliant, but rather bland and boring…pale, as some might call them. However, the Master viewed this group with keen interest. He protected them and kept them from co-mingling outside of the Pastel group, which assured that they would retain their fair complexion. Of course, if you have not already figured it out by now, diversities with prerogative are inclined toward disobedience, and the Pastels were no exception.
As a group, they would pursue non-sanctioned distractions from those things other diversities contrived. When this happened, the Pastels became murky; and only when they turned back and trusted in the Master for guidance, could they be made clean again. No matter how many times they strayed, the Master’s love was ready to forgive and restore them to their original glory. Yet, the Master knew that these cycles would continue endlessly unless, somehow, he could implant his loving forgiveness in advance of their rebellion.  

So this is what he did; he selected a special Pastel, one that had not co-mingled with any other diversities. Teal was one that lived only to fulfill her Masters will. He took a drop of his own blood mixed with tears, born from his longing for the willful obedience of his work, and co-mingled this precious substance with hers. The unusual fruit of their co-mingling was not immediately apparent. Their fruit was not flashy, and in fact he blended quite well with all other Pastels. However, unlike the other diversities, the Master called him, Son.  

As his life on the palette unfolded, it became apparent that this was no ordinary diversity. Unlike others, his life seemed to be fixed upon one purpose… to do everything the Master prescribed. This he did without exception, and he spoke out against those that set themselves up as counterfeit masters. Life on the palette had become so perverted that diversities, which are created, began establishing themselves as equals to the Master, their Creator.

As one can imagine, this did not make the Master’s son very popular with those that followed their own prerogative. On the other hand, many diversities began to follow and imitate the son, and this further infuriated his enemies. You see; it made them feel guilty, because down deep they knew they, too, should follow the will of the Master Artiste. It wasn’t long before they found a way to rid themselves of the son.  
There was a law that the Master established, and it said that no diversity should claim to be a Master himself. The son claimed a oneness with the Master. In fact, he said that when you look upon him it is the same as looking upon the Master.  Remember, the son was blood and tears of the Master… the sum and substance of the Master’s love, yet, still just a diversity. To those that were jealous of the son, this provided a perfect excuse to arrest the son and charge him with blasphemy.

Well, these diversities were in the habit of using the Master’s law only when it served their own self-interest. They accused the son of blasphemy; which required punishment of isolation and thin despercement. This was the most heinous punishment. First, the diversity was set upon some obscure un-occupied portion of the palette, and then their substance was thinly spread across this vast wilderness. The outcome was shameful. One would be totally exposed to other diversities that came to watch and mock. Then the drying began and freedom of movement ceased. Later, a total hardening takes place and the poor condemned diversity is destined to remain, forever, on the palette without hope of ever reaching the Master’s canvas.

This is exactly what happened to the Master’s son. He was shamed and hardened to death; all because he claimed to be whom he actually was. The interesting thing is there is another law that the Master established; the penalty of life pursuits outside of faith in the Master’s prerogative was death, or hardening, beyond any use to the Master. The son’s death created upon the palette a most interesting phenomenon. You see, the son had never trusted in any prerogative other than the Master’s, yet now he was spread thin unto death. This single unjust act unsettled everything upon the palette. Just when all life on the palette was spiraling downward out of control, the Master’s own perfect son was dried and laid to the side. His perfect death restored not just his own life with the Artiste, but also to any that would trust that the son was the ultimate expression of the Master’s love for his creation. All it took was for but one teardrop from the Master to fall upon the palette, and the son came to life and was perfectly placed upon the canvas.

From that point forward, all diversities that commingled with the son and trusted in his loving sacrifice, were promised a perfect place upon the canvas. This event was so monumental to those that occupied the palette, that from that moment forward all other moments were measured in relationship to that great event.

Now don’t get me wrong, life on the palette was far from perfect. It was just that from that moment forward (because perfection came to the palette and suffered unjustly), guilty diversities could trust in the Son’s perfect act of love, and portions of their own life were transported to the Master’s canvas.

Many, over time, have complicated this simple tale. Some say you must follow every rule the Master set, and only then can you hope to end up on the canvas. Others proclaim there is not a canvas at all, nor a Master, for if there were, how could a loving Master create life where so much suffering exists as is experienced on the palette? Most diversities have totally lost sight of their true purpose… the purpose the Master has for them. Instead, they only view life from their lower perspective.
Someday, we may discover more of life on the palette, or even life on the canvas; but for now, this bit of pigment and paint is being called to a special place.  A place determined by the Master Artiste as the perfect spot for Lil’-o-me!
Steve

This passage is like abstract art for the mind.  No palette occupant can make it to the canvas without the Master, the Master's will, and Master's brush.  Is the Master willing to paint every diversity onto his heavenly canvas?  Yes.  Will every diversity become canvas worthy?  No.  This saddens the heart of the Master, I'm sure, but free will to chose canvas living is a just that -- a choice.  I've made the choice, but there are many distractions to that choice in the form of other tempting diversities from the truth of the canvas and the Master.  To those who don't understand the Master, or what the Master's final painting will be, I urge you to trust that the Master has a plan for your spot on that canvas.  To others out there who read this allegory--Are you willing to let the Master add you to his masterpiece?
Rick

Steve,

The motive behind this story is to re frame the privilege of the Creator.  There have been so many attacks on God as the creator, that often times we forget the privilege that the creator has in response to His creation.  The only legitimate destroyer of a work of art is the artiest himself.  If an artiest deems that his work is not worthy then it is within his right to destroy that work regardless how wonderful it appears to us.

       Read For Truth Forum Index -> Rick Hoerman
Page 1 of 1
Create your own free forum | Buy a domain to use with your forum
If you look for truth, you may find comfort in the end; if you look for comfort you will not get either comfort or truth only soft soap and wishful thinking to begin, and in the end, despair. --C. S. Lewis