“I believe that God made me for a purpose…, but He also made me fast, and when I run, I feel His pleasure….” — Eric Liddell
I take no pleasure in running. But I am captivated by the thought of God making us good at something (even good at something as unnecessary to life as running); that there is a chance He delights in seeing us recognize how He made us; that He fully wants us to use what He gave, to completely enjoy it. (Not to the exclusion of being productive, but along side it.)
I’ve never been quite clear on the role of an artist—either in this world or the next. I console myself by quipping about my imitations of the heavenly Creator.
Can you imagine God being delighted, not in your striving toward being more like Him, but in being more like YOU?
This seems almost too good to be true.
(And why does my puttering in the studio now feel like worship?)
Because it is like Bethany’s son holding his sister’s hand, turning it over and over and then saying, Emma, I like your hands.” I have a picture in my mind of God turning my hands in His and saying, “Susan, I like your hands.” What comes from my hands, has no real value except that it is evidence of my delight in a Father who not only made me me, but the wonder of HIS DELIGHT in making me me. Look Daddy, look what I can do! The best way I know to thank Him and please him is to make things in the studio in his honor.Using the gift to the max and laying the treasure at his feet–that’s worship -eh?
it feels like worship because it is…
Can't wait for another posting & dialogue…
🙂
Nope it wasn’t you, Hon. That Battista woman!
As joy bennefits from pain, so merriment is flat without solemn recognition of the fragility of life.
Was that someone me that asked for the painting? Because I totally want it. 🙂
I love that KJV translation of Psalm 139!
The posting bring to mind CS Lewis:
There are no ORDINARY people. You have never talked to a mere mortal. Nations, cultures, arts, civilizations – these are mortal and their life is to our the life of a gnat. But it is immortals whom we joke with, work with, marry, snub, and exploit – immortal horrors or everlasting splendors. This does not mean we are perpetually solemn. We must play. But our merriment must be of that kind (and it is, in fact, the merriest kind) which exists between people who have, from the outset, taken each other seriously – no flippancy, no superiority, no presumption.
~The Weight of Glory
Yes, fearfully and wonderfully made.
Believe it or not someone else already asked for it :>O
Oh, I forgot. Do you want to give me that painting? Hah
It brings to mind Psalm 139:
I praise you for I am fearfully and wonderfully made. Wonderful are your works; my soul knows it well.
My frame was not hidden from you when I was made in secret, intricately woven in the depths of the earth. ESV
KJV translates it–made in secret and curiously wrought.
Can you picture it? God hunched over the work bench weaving in each strand of you–intricately and curiously woven. How can we ever look at another person as less than us or more than us? Masterpieces all!