Mixed media on panel
36" x 12"
 
The canyon at the narrows is a paradox. This river has me buried deep. What I thought was looming shame was only the shade of this canyon’s keep. What was meant to erode and crush me, make me a fool, has become my footstool. The current that would surely drown me in this narrow place has only lifted and moved me around unknown places and bends, toward golden light. In the valley, I have sight. Kept between these fortified walls; they are tall watchmen, seeing what I cannot. Humbled, am I destroyed or kept? I lift up my eyes. Where is my help? My Rock has hemmed me in behind and before. The Maker is my keep.
 
Inspired by The Narrows in Zion Canyon. A beautiful Puritan prayer from The Valley of Vision is integrated throughout.
Psalm 121; Psalm 139:1-12; Isaiah 6:1-8