I don’t really create so much as I copy and adapt.
Those pictures on Pinterest, the photos in that project book, the links on Facebook, all entice me to pull out the hot glue gun, some fabric or paper scraps and make a huge mess, take up far more time than I expect, and finally gaze with pride on what I created…..I mean copied.
I’ve been wrapping strips of fabric into flowers and covering my hands into a hot mess of “Liquid Stitch” and stabbing my fingers with the needle when I try to sew the button into the center.
I’ve taken someone else’s ideas and made them my own.
I’ve wrapped the fabric too loosely now and my flower unravels. I begin again. Twist, wrap, glue, twist, wrap, glue.
As I try and try (and try) again, I mediate on this:
God started from nothing.
Now the earth was formless and empty, darkness was over the surface of the deep, and the Spirit of God was hovering over the waters (Genesis 1:2 NIV).
No McCall’s pattern. No Pinterest. No step-by-step directions on the DIY channel. No classes at Michael’s or demonstrations at Jo-Ann Fabrics.
He takes that void, that nothingness, and He brings the fullness of His plans and design with the power of His Word alone.
Then He “saw that it was good” (Gen. 1:25 NIV).
And when I long for His presence, I can join Him in His activity. He is Creator. It is who He is and what He does. So I make this effort, make these tiny attempts at making beauty happen.
Sally Clarkson writes in The Mission of Motherhood:
Creativity is such an integral part of the image of God within all of us… Whenever we adapt an idea or try a different approach to an issue or give our personal spin to a particular endeavor, we are learning a little more about our God-given nature and the nature of our creative God.
He creates beauty. He brings light into the dark places and hope into the hopeless situations. He brings order into chaos and joy from mourning.
I pause and examine the flower I’ve made with a critic’s eye. It’s not exactly like that Pinterest picture. Nothing I make ever really is.
But the beauty of its originality grows on me. Maybe I like it well enough. It’s perhaps a little unexpected, maybe a little unplanned, but it’s a flower and it’s fabric and in its own particular way, it’s created for beauty.
So, why do I insist that this Creator God who is able to do “far more than all I ask or imagine” (Ephesians 3) and can speak a few words out into a formless universe and create a planet of complex life and intricate and breathtaking beauty….
Why do I insist that He do things my way?
I do this. I pray, “God, here’s my need. I’m hopeless here without You. Please reach right here into this pit and save me and here’s how….”
I’ve given Him agendas, to-do lists, blueprints, and step-by-step instructions. I’ve given Him 5-year plans and 10-year plans and custom orders for the needs I face that day.
I cling to my plan and argue like a lawyer in a courtroom before an unyielding judge, and then with just a few simple words He creates and I am stunned into silence and worship.
What God does over and over is create an entirely unexpected solution for the mess I’m in.
Yet, it’s perfect. It’s exquisite.
I think of Mary, loving Jesus as she did, the mother who rocked Him and sang to Him in the night.
She brought to Him a problem in John 2 at the Cana wedding feast. No more wine for the guests, she told Him. The host of the party would be so embarrassed, she told Him.
And that’s where she stopped.
She didn’t tangle Him all up in her expectations, her solutions, her suggestions or demands.
No, she laid that problem right into His hands and trusted Him to care for it in His own way.
She gave Him the opportunity to create.
I look at the stack of fabric flowers I’ve made and they form for me a prayer:
God, help me remember that You are the Masterful Creator and I can trust You. You make all things beautiful in Your time. Whatever need I have or problem I face, I leave in Your hands
Originally published: May 7, 2014