Last night I went to a Celebration of Life. In the background is a replica of "The Travail of the Flag" by Shelli Baker-Manuel Landon. Hers was the life that transitioned beyond the veil. The link gives a brief history of the full painting and prophetic vision that spurred it. I read it just now and tears flowed yet again. This is my flashback to an artistic, inspired life that briefly intersected with my own.
I don't remember where I first heard Shelli's testimony. I remember getting her book by the same title as the painting, likely a gift from either my mom or my aunt. (By the way, my aunt and uncle, Kathleen and Jim Kaseman, are pictured in the "Parade of Saints" in the lower left area. I went up close to the replica last night and captured a quick photo.)
I also don't remember where I heard/read about her plea to God to allow her to paint like the masters. I don't think it is in the book The Travail of the Flag. But I do remember that the story and the book enraptured me! What God can do with an artistic life that is wholly given to Him moved me deeply.
As I sit with this today, I think about the extreme obedience that marked me with Shelli's story. I am struck by the prophetic power of the arts when yielded to Him. Shelli's expressions have always been empassioned and without reserve. I've always admired her boldness.
When my then-husband and I stopped traveling and dedicated ourselves to church staff, that's when I began losing track of people like Shelli. We were no longer at meetings, and it was more difficult to make those journeys once our eldest was in school. Then our second child came along, and I can only see this now when looking back, but we were headed for disaster! Chaos reigned for some time after I suddenly became a single mom. It is only now beginning to straighten out after 20 years.
In recent years, I was reunited with Shelli (now with husband Barry Landon) during my time as a writer at Rhema. I recall being excited and praying for their potential way to help during COVID ... only I wasn't able to help spread the word much or make connections because it was just before my world went wild again. I stepped away from Rhema for what I thought would be a short time to help my dad. He passed on, however, and my disabled brother needed someone to assist him, so my back-and-forth life began. That continued until I crashed after my brother's burial. Only now have I somewhat resurrected.
Recently I was thinking about Barry and Shelli—wondering what became of the COVID device to purify air and hoping it had blessed them. The thought has been familiar, so I realize they have been on my heart for a while. I wish I had known what to do with that thought. I find that often when someone passes, they are on my heart for a time (or quite some time) before.
Amazingly, God helped me to see a post about her memorial service. I went. The stories resonated once again, and I am challenged to set my own artistry free in God's hand. Shelli's life is so large! I struggle to think of someone who is so specifically inspiring to me. I was once a budding, multi-gifted creative. I don't know if I will be exactly that again, but I am on the precipice of just such a journey.
I noticed the celtic carvings on her harp—so serendipitous to my return from Ireland the week before. Renewal. Restoration. Rededication. Revival. Shelli continues to urge me forward. ♥♥♥♥
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