Tuesday, November 15, 2011

The Image of my Father

I like to make things. I enjoy losing myself in the creation of something, impractical or practical, well-crafted or shoddy. I just want to make.


I sat down at the sewing machine yesterday and made a bag for my little one. The dishes were piled up, I was feeling under the weather, she has bags aplenty...the reasons why I shouldn't be sewing were sitting right there beside me, shaking their heads, their lips pressed thin with a justifiably disappointed air. But, in the midst of those unhappy reasons was sitting another character. He grinned at me. He clapped his hands with glee when I ripped up a sheet and sent it flying under the needle. He about lost his mind with mirth when I whipped around, triumphantly swinging this little bag from my hand to present it to my daughter. And when we went to the kitchen table, painted the bag and added her name, it was he alone who accompanied us.


I truly believe that my Maker delights in my crafting, that He thrills when I allow myself to be carried beyond this world on the wings of creation, and forget for a moment the earthly reasons why I shouldn't be crafting. While those unhappy reasons that keep me from making things all hours of the day are often valid, often just as important for my spiritual well-being, there is a piece of my soul that is only settled and content when something is being created by my own hands; be it frivolous or practical, edible or simply ornamental. 


The singer/songwriter, artist and author Andrew Peterson wrote something that caught my heart and held it for a moment, riveted with that sense of "Oh, you too?" that one gets when reading truly gifted storytellers. 

"I bear the Maker’s image, and one of the ways that plays out is that I delight in making."

While I had always recognized and even cultivated that facet of myself that delights in making, I had never properly understood that it was the slightest reflection of the God who made me, the God who has proven Himself time and time again to be a creative God, the God who is the ultimate source of all the wonder and beauty that anyone who dabbles in the arts tries to capture. In those tiny moments of creation, I am experiencing Him in me, and am exhilarated. 


So, I'll keep on makin'. It will be another way in which I can grow a little closer to my Father, one of the myriad windows He's given me to see into His perfection. 


Then perhaps I'll do the dishes. 

1 comment:

  1. What a beautiful post! I just want to scream, "AMEN!" I know EXACTLY what you mean. I first really recognized that thrill when I made paper flowers that actually looked like real flowers. I was ecstatic! And that was when I realized where that side of me came from- it was a divine inherited trait.

    Just wanted to come visit your blog to say thank you for all your great comments on mine. Happy to find yet another creative soul in the blogosphere!

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