The Ceiling He Almost Abandoned

In 1508, Michelangelo Buonarroti received a commission he did not want. Pope Julius II ordered him to paint the ceiling of the Sistine Chapel, and Michelangelo — who considered himself a sculptor, not a painter — protested. He suspected rivals had suggested the project to set him up for public failure.

He took the work anyway. For four years, he stood on scaffolding with his arms raised above his head, painting figures across more than five thousand square feet of curved plaster. Paint dripped into his eyes. His neck and back seized with pain so severe he later wrote a poem describing his body as bent like a bow. He worked in near isolation, dismissing most of his assistants, convinced he had to bear the weight of this vision alone.

There were moments he wanted to quit. The plaster molded. Sections had to be stripped and redone. The Pope demanded to know when it would be finished. Michelangelo reportedly answered, "When I am finished."

And when the ceiling was finally unveiled in 1512, the world saw something that still stops visitors in their tracks five centuries later — the hand of Adam reaching toward the hand of God.

Some of the most enduring work the Lord accomplishes in us happens when we feel least qualified and most exhausted. The Apostle Paul reminds us, "Let us not grow weary of doing good, for at the proper time we will reap a harvest if we do not give up." The masterpiece is never finished in comfort. Keep reaching.