So then, since we have a great High Priest who has entered heaven, Jesus the Son of God, let us hold firmly to what we believe. This High Priest of ours understands our weaknesses, for he faced all of the same testings we do, yet he did not sin. So let us come boldly to the throne of our gracious God. There we will receive his mercy, and we will find grace to help us when we need it most.
— Hebrews 4: 14 - 16
To whom was I to go for help when I was wrestling with something that they said I wasn’t supposed to struggle with? Could a woman—led to believe that her eyes were that of a man’s—trust other women to understand her when she bore a man’s problem? Could she trust other men to listen to her though she was unlike them in body?
Where was I to turn when I felt caught in the middle? I feared the counsel of those who saw lust as desire—would they dismiss the darkness that consumed the mind of my child-self as something to be embraced in adulthood? Would they laugh at me for ever feeling convicted? I feared the judgment of those who saw desire as lust—would they say I was immoral for so often wondering about and wishing for intimacy? Would they condemn me if they knew I enjoyed my own touch without guilt?
I trusted no soul to bear my burdens, so I hid them. I dared not look up to God—who saw everything—in fear that I would see disappointment across His face, that He would say to me, “I never knew you; depart from me…” I quietly waited for judgment from God… but none came.
And so, with no one but God to talk to, I took out a small red journal and started to write. I slowly began to trust Him with my words. From the pages these words eventually grew into prayers that I whispered into the darkness until I gained courage to speak to Him face-to-face…
I told Jesus the Son of God my struggles and He told me He loved me; I went to Jesus the Son of Man with my deepest feelings and He understood them.
THE PAINTING
Somewhere, a Grape Vine grows with a flock of Doves perched in its branches, their faces bloodied from feasting on the entrails of a Dead Dog. The Dead Dog melts from decay over a Young Man who stands below with a Brown Dog by his side. Alighted on the Young Man’s shoulders are two other Doves who offer him Grapes—is it juice or blood that stains their feathers? He appears to pay the Doves no mind, and stares expressionless through the Viewer. Just as the Doves have done to himself, the Young Man presents a bunch of Grapes to the Brown Dog, who drools in excitement and anticipation.
The relationships between the Characters are layered: It is possible that the Dead Dog and the Brown Dog are separate Dogs… it also could be that the Dead Dog is the Brown Dog in the future. The Dogs represent the Young Man’s desire as well as his being. The Grapes are lust, and the Doves are inside and outside forces of temptation.
The Doves feast on the failures of past Men, and hungrily look forward to this Young Man’s downfall—perhaps they whisper to him, Grapes are good for Man to eat. The Young Man mirrors the Doves—his hands positioned to feed the Brown Dog what would be poison to its body. The scene appears to be caught in a moment, with the Doves and the Brown Dog waiting for the Young Man to make a final decision.