Layers

A couple of weeks ago I came across a photo from a gal I follow on Instagram. I was first introduced to her through her blog and later through her books. Her style has always fascinated me for the unique way she combines patterns and for the ease with which she juxtaposes new with old, shiny with weathered, and smoothe with rough. The thing I love most about her style though is her ability to layer objects to pefection.

The photo that captured my attention that day was from a vendor's display at one of the huge, open-air markets she frequents. There were layers upon layers of beauty in this vignette, at least it was beautiful to me, and that "beauty" casued me to stop and linger. Sitting atop a crusty, old store countertop was a large, white grocer's scale. It must have been from the 30s or 40s. It had just the right amount of wear and commanded attention as shoppers passed. Perched on top of the balance was a hefty cutting board, and on top of it, at least three or four cream-colored platters (some crazed and chipped) in graduated sizes. The crowning glory was a vintage canning jar brimming over with wildflowers. It was quite a sight.

I remember trying to put my finger on what it was that made this photo so mesmerizing for me. Then it hit me... it was the layers.

The layers, each building upon the foundation below it, elevated the entire whole. Individually they were pretty, but together they were captivating. There was a depth, an interest, the layers added that would have been impossible to accomplish singularly.

I suppose it's an effective strategy even for major department store retailers. If you can slow someone down long enough to look, you can slow them down long enough to think about purchasing. Varying heights, layering colors, and stacking objects creates a kind of "pause." In order to take it all in, you have to slow down and study it a while.

In large part thanks to those influencers on social media, I have become a fan of layers too. My plain sofa, though very comfortable, and nicely neutral, looks much more inviting with a colorful throw and some plump, patterned pillows. It almost seems as if those little additions hang out an invisible WELCOME sign, beckoning all to, "Come sit here!"

Aside from its use as a decorating strategy, or in simply creating interest among customers, layers have the potential to add beauty in an even more significant way, I think.

Layers add a richness to life.

As I thought about that photo, it occurred to me that this is the exact thing that happens to us throughout our lives.

From the moment we are born we begin adding layers to our stories. Upon the foundation of our youth come moments and milestones that significantly shape and mold who we are becoming. Every friendship adds a facet. Every hobby, every talent builds on what came before. Each success and each shortcoming help to shape the whole. As the layers build we gain depth. Our triumphs add encouragement. Our difficulties add strength and empathy.

Viewed singularly, one life incident may not seem all that significant, but taken together they create a picture that has infinitely more interest. The older we get, the more layers we build, and the more beautiful we become.

I suppose that's the way God wants it. He knows the finished product. He's taken a peek behind the dropcloth, and He lingers there at what He sees, each one a work of art. Not created in a flash, but cultivated Himself, painstakingly crafted one lovely layer at a time.

His desire for our life becomes more evident with each placement He directs until what appears before Him is what He's envisioned all along, a breathtaking vignette...

a heart and soul brimming with depth and beauty.