Praying with Emily Carr's "Scorned as Timber Beloved of the Sky"
What if what has been rejected still carries sacred worth? Emily Carr’s Scorned as Timber Beloved of the Sky invites reflection on acceptance, failure, and divine presence. Through scripture, art, and silence, we contemplate how God embraces what others leave behind.
1 Peter 2:4-5
What happens to what is left behind? In Scorned as Timber Beloved of the Sky, Emily Carr paints a slender tree deemed unworthy by loggers yet reaching upward into an embracing sky. What human systems reject, the heavens receive. The painting becomes an image of quiet grace — a reminder that value is not always recognized by those who measure usefulness, productivity, or profit.
Carr’s own writings echo this longing to move beyond failure and toward divine acceptance. She speaks of humility, patience, and the steady gaze required to perceive God’s presence even when obscured by disappointment. Her words carry an ache many of us recognize: the desire to rise above rejection, to be beloved, to trust that God’s face is there if we look long enough and gently enough.
This episode holds together two interwoven themes. One is deeply personal — acceptance in the midst of rejection. The other is ecological — Carr’s concern about the effects of clear-cut forestry and her insistence that trees are not merely resources for consumption. They are living beings, breathed upon by God, shelters for birds and beasts, expressions of might, patience, and tenderness. Conservation, here, is not simply ethical; it is spiritual.
Drawing on 1 Peter 2:4–5, we are invited to see ourselves as “living stones,” rejected by some yet precious in God’s eyes, being shaped into a spiritual dwelling place. As the scripture is heard, repeated, and held alongside the painting, space opens for reflection: Where do you see God in this image? Where do you see yourself? What is God revealing to you now?
This time of contemplation invites stillness — a chance to breathe again the breath of life shared through creation, to rest in God’s presence, and to remember that we are valued beyond human judgment. Even when overlooked or scorned, we are embraced. Like Carr in the woods, we may find ourselves saying simply, and truthfully: God is here.