Juggling, sketching and other things we do for God.

During my first exam period at university, I probably spent some time studying, but a tangible skill that I came away with was that I learnt how to juggle.

Not juggle in a metaphorical sense of keeping study, work, and social life all moving and in balance, but actually juggle. As in, three balls moving through the air.

This came about while I was wasting time walking the corridors of my university college, and a third-year student who probably taking a well-deserved study break offered to teach me.

Of course I said yes - being a member of a circus was an unrealised childhood dream, and circus skills had always seems far beyond me. He was a great teacher, and I learnt to juggle three balls within the space of 15 minutes.

It was also during this time that I was diving deep into scripture, faith and developing a relationship with God, and a thought occurred to me: if we have a talent, and we’re able to develop it, then we should, because we don’t know how God might want to use it.

Now, I don’t know if the thought was divinely-inspired, but I would share it with friends, and in many ways I let it flavour the way I viewed my hobbies or talents.

One practical result is that while I’ve never performed in a circus (three balls just wouldn’t cut it), over the years I’ve kept the juggling up. Every so often, I’ll take out the juggling balls and toss them around so I don’t lose the skill. Because you never know how God may want to use it.

“If we have a talent, and we’re able to develop it, then we should, because we don’t know how God may want to use it.”

Aside from juggling, the idea that God may want to use a skill was probably the biggest subconscious motivation behind trying to develop my artistic talents during that long stretch of years when creating beautiful or meaningful art seemed beyond me. I knew I had some talent, and hadn’t I said that if we have talent, and we are able to, we should develop it?

The beautiful thing is that I really think God was listening.

After years of chipping away at developing my sketching or painting, I felt God call me out of the way my life seemed to be heading and say, this thing - art - now this is what I want you to do. You’ve been developing it, and now I do want to use it.

And I know this wasn’t just following what seemed nice to me, because that feeling of being called by God to make art has had to battle against my lack of confidence, my fear of rejection, and the fact that generally it’s easier to do almost anything in the world than make art.

“Every so often, I’ll take out the juggling balls and toss them around so I don’t lose the skill.”

Giving up would be easy. But despite difficulties, following God’s will leads to joy.

So has God used my art-making? Yes.

When I am sent a photo of a mother soon to give birth holding my St Joan of Arc art print which says: “I am not afraid, I was born to do this,” and am told that she is going to take it with her into the delivery room, then I can see that God has made use of my art.

When another artist messages me to say that they’ve started a novena to St Catherine of Bologna and that they’re using my artwork of her as a focal point for their prayer, then I can see that God is using my art.

When a young woman at a retreat stands up in front of a crowd and says that the roses I painted for a backdrop display were exactly the same as she had drawn years ago and that it carried a special message from God for her, then I can see that God is using the artistic gifts I turned over to Him when I decided to strive and struggle to develop them, even when I felt especially ‘untalented’.

And the juggling?

Last week some religious sisters dropped by. They were in Sydney to attend a youth conference and were attempting to juggle two very worn juggling balls. They explained they wanted to have juggling at their stall, but didn’t know how to juggle.

So I taught them.

Teaching sisters to juggle so they can reach young people? That sounds like God’s work to me.