The Day They Painted me Out of the Picture

I was with a few friends the other night, reminiscing about the “good old days.” Somewhere between the laughter and the storytelling, they started teasing me about something I’ve become known for: my ability to remember exact dates and times of significant moments in my life.

It’s true. I can tell you where I was, what time it was, and sometimes even what the weather was like when life-changing events took place. For example September 21, 1977, about 4:30 in the afternoon. That’s the moment I first saw Tammy. I was sitting in the grandstands, half-watching a football game, when out of the corner of my eye I noticed a particular cheerleader. Something in me shifted that day. I thought to myself, First I’m going to find out her name. Second, I’m going to take her on a date.

It happened. On July 4, 1978, Tammy and I went on our very first date to watch the fireworks in Tacoma. Five days later, on July 9, 1978, I took her to my home church. Exactly one week after that, July 16, 1978, Tammy gave her life to Christ and was filled with the Spirit.

December 12, 1980 we were married.

September 6, 1983 our son Daniel was born.

September 17, 1986 our daughter Bethany was born.

I could go on and on. Important dates, etched into my memory. Dates that shaped my story. You see, I’ve learned something about people: most of us forget what we need to remember, and we remember what we ought to forget.

A couple years ago, Daniel and Bethany decided to surprise Tammy with a very special birthday gift. They hired a local artist to paint a large portrait of the two of them. When Tammy unwrapped the painting, she was speechless. Everyone was impressed the likeness was stunning. People asked how the artist captured them so perfectly, and the answer was simple: he had worked from a family photo the kids had given him.

As I admired the painting, something bothered me. I couldn’t place the picture. I didn’t remember ever seeing that photo. So later, I asked Bethany, “Where did you find that?”

She hesitated. Finally, she admitted it came from one of our old family albums. That nagging thought wouldn’t leave me, so after a few days I asked her to show me the original. When she finally handed it over, everything made sense.

I had been in the photo. But not in the painting.

Bethany grinned and said, “Dad, we painted you out of the picture. This was supposed to be just from Daniel and me, not you.”

We all laughed. And to this day, it’s one of our funniest family stories the day my kids painted me out of the picture!

But that painting did more than make us laugh. It made me think.

Because the truth is, all of us are guilty of painting someone out of the picture. And more often than not, the One we paint out is Christ Himself.

We paint Him out of our relationships.

We paint Him out of our decisions.

We paint Him out of our work.

We paint Him out of our priorities.

It’s subtle. One day He’s in the center of the picture, and the next, He’s quietly erased.

Imagine a young man at school. He notices a girl who catches his eye. She’s beautiful, fun, everything he thinks he wants. There’s only one problem she doesn’t know Christ. So he convinces himself: I’ll just paint Jesus out of the picture for a little while. Once she falls for me, I’ll bring Him back in.

Or picture a businessman on the verge of a big deal. The contract looks great on paper. But deep down, he knows it isn’t right. The integrity lines are blurry, the partnership isn’t godly. Instead of walking away, he thinks, I’ll just set Jesus aside for this one transaction. I’ll paint Him out for now, and then I’ll invite Him back later.

It sounds harmless in the moment. But what starts as a temporary brush stroke can end up leaving Christ erased from entire seasons of our lives.

Scripture is clear:

   •   John 15:5 “Apart from Me, you can do nothing.”

   •   Proverbs 3:6 “In all your ways acknowledge Him, and He shall direct your paths.”

   •   Colossians 3:17  “Whatever you do, in word or deed, do all in the name of the Lord Jesus.”

When we keep Christ in the picture, we find clarity, peace, and direction. But when we paint Him out, we lose the very presence that holds everything together.

That portrait on Tammy’s wall is a reminder to me. Not just of my kids’ sense of humor, but of a spiritual truth I can’t ignore:

Life’s painting isn’t complete without Christ.

He isn’t optional. He isn’t decorative. He’s the center.

So let me ask you: Have you painted Him out of your picture? Out of your marriage? Out of your work? Out of your dreams?

If so, it’s time to invite Him back in. Pick up the brush and let Him be part of the masterpiece again. Because with Christ in the picture, the portrait of your life becomes whole, beautiful, and eternal.