The
French call it an allée. Merriam Webster says it is a “walkway lined with
trees or small shrubs.”
I’d love to be back at this low country location
again, running the broad length of the path between tall watchful oaks as
filtered sunlight sifts through wisps of moss. An allée draws one forward toward
whatever lies beyond, usually a home.
Madeleine L‘Engle wrote in Walking on Water, her wonderful reflection on faith and art,
that “the chief difference between the Christian and the secular artist—the purpose
of the work, be it story or music or painting, is to further the coming of the
kingdom, to make us aware of our status as children of God, and to turn our
feet toward home.”
I
can see us all lined up now across the ages, all who attempt to be God's conduits for
whatever big or small talents we have, forming an allée to help the wanderer. “This
way,” we say, “run this way to home.”
So
many through their work have done this for me: of course, the writers of the Bible, and C.S.
Lewis, Madeleine L‘Engle, and a gazillion other artists, writers, and musicians.
In
whatever ways you create, think about how you may use your gifts to “further
his kingdom,” so that others may put their hearts wholly in the hands of the
Father, and find their feet firmly on the path toward home.
Take
your place in the creative allée.
“And
whatever you do, whether in word or deed, do it all in the name of the Lord
Jesus, giving thanks to God the Father through him” (Colossians 3:17).