| Sunny Side Up, April 6, 2005 �2005, Kathleen Gibson Reflecting our Creative God I'm seldom more content than when doing something creative. Writing, making music, designing things, painting� And when I just sit, thinking thoughts I've never 'thunk' before, I'm happier than a robin in the rain. My creative drive helped me survive long years mothering tots, when the Preacher flitted in and out from ministry errands like a shadow. It saw me through nine years of home educating our children. It spurred me to do (and teach others) creative skills that came rather naturally to me. Including, and especially, home decorating. Over nearly thirty years of marriage, I may have put more miles on our furniture than our car. I keep my paint caddy, tape measure, and tools within convenient reach. Something may need decorating. Or re-decorating. Even un-decorating. When the Preacher senses the beginnings of a 'project,' he becomes like a creature hunted. Wild-eyed, he darts about gathering his most special possessions - those that may be in danger of being re-vamped, or painted, or trashed. Finally he and his horde of treasures disappear. He calls from his office every now and then. "Is it safe to come home yet?" he asks. "Honey," he told me once, "I can handle my own messes, but I don't have a clue what to do when you start making them!" This week I have a new mess. Our dining table is full of little heads - prototypes for jungle puppets. It reminds me of the day my friend Lydia dropped in during a similar project. Confronted by my 'works in progress' she waved aside my apologies. Declared, "A creative mess is better than idle tidiness." I love that lady. The Genesis account of creation tells of God forming man from 'the dust of the earth'. I like to imagine God, mud to his elbows, brow furrowed, clay under his nails; surrounded by prototypes. Square eyes or round? Two arms or three? One foot? Twelve toes? God, I think, understands a 'creative mess.' Since he designed humans as reflections of himself, I blame him for mine! God's best creative work is ongoing. It's accomplished within us, and he allows us to participate. His goal is a spirit united with his, a heart beating in sync with his divine rhythm. Recording artist Sandy Patty sings these words. O Lord of light, of form and hue, who has created all things new. Create in me, of shapeless clay, an instrument on which you play. O Lord of Beauty, Lord of Art, who gives a song for every heart. Carve out my life, reshape and mold, and be the artist of my soul. That's my prayer too. But have you noticed that sometimes spirit-work is messy? He shapes, we resist. He molds, we protest. He squeezes, we squeal. And sometimes, like the Preacher, we flee. I've discovered something in my years of relationship with our Creator. When I'm finally still and cooperative, listening for his voice, loving his nearness, allowing his redecoration of my spirit; I'm NEVER more contented. Respond Home |
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