Spurgeon's Painter
When Providence Splatters Our Portraits
Charles Spurgeon, in his sermon The Snare of the Fowler, based on Psalm 91:3, offers a powerful illustration of God’s “sad providence” that intervenes in our lives for our good and His glory. The story goes as follows:
“You have all heard the old story of the celebrated painter who was painting in St. Paul’s Cathedral. As he looked at his work, he gradually stepped back, inch by inch, to gain a better view of it, so that he could appreciate the excellence of its proportions. He kept stepping back until his feet were at the edge of the platform on which he stood. He was about to fall and be dashed to pieces on the pavement below. At that moment, a workman standing nearby, unsure how to save him, devised a wise expedient. Instead of shouting, ‘Sir, you are in danger!’—which would likely have startled the painter and caused him to fall—the workman took a brush, dipped it into a pot of paint, and splattered it onto the painting. The painter rushed forward in anger to chastise him, but after an explanation, he clearly saw that the workman had acted wisely.”
Just so with God. We often envision our lives as finely painted portraits, admiring them from a distance. But God knows that our tendency toward backsliding will eventually lead to our destruction. In His sad providence, He interrupts our vision, splattering our portraits in ways we do not understand…
— MPT Sermons, vol. 3
Like the painter in Spurgeon’s illustration, we all have a picture of how our lives will turn out. We spend countless days admiring this work of art. Then, unexpectedly, God splatters our portraits with the paint of His providence—introducing a color we never would have chosen, applied in ways that seem to work against us. Whether it’s unfulfilled plans, unmet desires, unexpected loss, or even achieving everything we once wanted but feeling disappointed because it’s not what we expected, we can feel that something is off.
In such moments, it is all too easy to rush toward God in anger, bitterness, and complaint, accusing Him of wrongdoing— “How could You? Don’t You see that You have ruined a masterpiece?” Yet, what appears to us as a disastrous, splattered ruin is, in fact, a gracious, sanctified revision. Though we may not yet see the final masterpiece, we trust that the Artist and Author of our salvation is at work (Eph. 2:10; Heb. 2:10). So, the question remains: When God’s “sad providence” strikes, how can our souls remain happy? How can we maintain a cheerful confidence in the goodness and grace of God despite what we see? Let us consider two realities from Scripture to guide our hearts during times of “sad providence.”
1. God is for You
Romans 8:31 tells us, “What then shall we say to these things? If God is for us, who can be against us?” Why did the painter explode in anger at the workman? From his vantage point, the workman seemed to be working against him. The painter thought the workman was undermining his success and hindering his happiness. Similarly, when our dreams and visions of life are distorted, nearly unrecognizable, or shattered beyond repair, our flesh says, “God must be working against me.” We may even question ourselves: “Didn’t I have enough faith?” Or worse, we may think, “God is punishing me” or “God isn’t even here.” These creeds of unbelief present themselves to us at one time or another.
However, when we remember that God is unequivocally for us—working all things for the good of those who love Him (Rom. 8:28)—we begin to grasp a profound, yet seemingly paradoxical truth: God takes to make, distorts to conform, ruins to revise, and burdens to bless.
What is the end goal? Paul tells us in Romans 8:29, “For those whom He foreknew He also predestined to be conformed to the image of His Son.” And in Philippians 3:10-11, Paul shares that all his losses had one purpose: “That I may know Him and the power of His resurrection, and may share His sufferings, becoming like Him in His death.” In other words, the life we envision for ourselves can never compare to the life God has promised us in the new heavens and new earth, in resurrected bodies reflecting the glory of the risen Christ. For God to give us anything less, or allow us to have something that would, in the end, cause us to desire it more than eternal life, would be cruel. As Jesus reminds us, “If you then, who are evil, know how to give good gifts to your children, how much more will your Father who is in heaven give good things to those who ask Him!” (Matt. 7:9-11). Sometimes, though, our pictures of how life should be are the real distortions, and the requests we make in the flesh are the real disasters—resulting only in serpents and stones rather than what we hoped for. Remember: God is for you.
2. God is for Others
In 2 Corinthians 1:3-4, Paul begins his letter with a doxology that offers us the eyes to see the broader work of grace when all we see is a splattered mess. He writes:
“Blessed be the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, the Father of mercies and God of all comfort, who comforts us in all our affliction, so that we may be able to comfort those who are in any affliction, with the comfort with which we ourselves are comforted by God.”
These verses encourage me deeply, especially in view of my own disappointments and unexpected providential brushstrokes. They remind me that our sufferings are not always about us. God is not only concerned with my sanctification but with the sanctification of others, too. And the way God most often leads others through the valley of the shadow of death (Psalm 23:4) is through those who are familiar with the valley’s bleak midwinter feel and varying shades of dark shadows. If we have never learned to see with the eyes of faith the luminous colors of comfort from our good shepherd in the confusing and distorted, how will we ever comfort and minister to fellow saints in that position? It is often the case that our personal misery produces the greatest ministry to others. In our culture of hyper-individualism and private devotion, we need to remember that we do not live the Christian life in isolation but as part of the communion of saints. Our sufferings are meant to be shared sufferings. Our comforts, shared comforts. Remember: God is for others.
While it is true that God has countless good purposes in painting His providence across the canvas of our lives, these two reasons provide enough support to help us avoid losing heart and to continue entrusting ourselves to a faithful Creator (1 Peter 4:19). The words of William Cowper’s classic hymn, God Moves in a Mysterious Way, offer a fitting conclusion to this reflection on God’s ‘sad providence.’"
God moves in a mysterious way,
His wonders to perform.
He plants his footsteps in the sea
And rides upon the storm.
Deep in the dark and hidden mines,
With never-failing skill,
He fashions all his bright designs
And works his sov'reign will.
Oh, fearful saints, new courage take:
The clouds that you now dread
Are big with mercy and will break
In blessings on your head.
Judge not the Lord by feeble sense,
But trust him for his grace.
Behind a frowning providence,
He hides a smiling face.
God's purposes will ripen fast,
Unfolding every hour.
The bud may have a bitter taste,
But sweet will be the flower.
Blind unbelief is sure to err
And scan his work in vain.
God is his own interpreter,
And he will make it plain.
For a modern, accessible rendition of Cowper’s hymn see Luke Hill’s version on Spotify or Apple Music.