Before the Beginning: An Invitation to Relaxed Creativity

This time of year, so many of us are thinking about new beginnings. I used to think of beginnings as just the means to an end. But since a beginning itself can teach us so much, I want to invite you on a journey across space and time, to the moments just before creation.

“In the beginning, God created the heavens and Earth.

The earth was formless and void,

and darkness was over the surface of the deep,

and the Spirit of God was moving over the surface of the waters.” (Genesis 1:1-2 NAS)

I want us to pause and notice a few things. Most people assume that before creation, there was nothing. Notice that, as this story opens, there is not nothing.

There is darkness, the deep abyss, water, and the Spirit of God.

This word Spirit is important for us. The Hebrew word is ruach, and it literally means breath. So from before the beginning, there’s an important connection between our spiritual selves and our breathing.

We’ll come back to that, but for now let’s return to the creation story. Remember, at this point, everything is formless. The Hebrew word here is tohu. In this verse it’s almost always translated “formless”. Elsewhere in the Bible, it’s more often translated “waste” as in desolate, but also as in futile. Pointless.

It’s not that there was nothing. There was all this stuff. It’s just that it was a wasteland of sorts.

This might seem depressing at first, but I think this glimpse into the moments before creation is profoundly good news.

The reality is that none of us gets to begin with a blank slate. We all start out in darkness. We all have deep, churning places, and lots of wasted stuff, from day one. That’s part of what makes this beginning so redemptive. God doesn’t start with a pristine white canvas or a fresh can of Play-doh. He starts with a deep, dark mess. Anybody else relate?

Imagining the cosmic scope of this mess makes what happens next even more astounding. We get this glimpse of what the Spirit of God (God’s breath) did just before creation. The Genesis account tells us God’s breath was moving, or hovering, over all that wasted stuff.  The Hebrew word used here is especially significant for us as women.

It can mean hover, in the same way a bird hovers over her nest. She’s touching the eggs, but not letting her full weight crush them. Another way this word is frequently translated elsewhere is relax. So a plausible translation of this verse is, “God’s breath relaxed over the surface of the waters.”

Whoa. In the moments before creation, God’s breath is relaxing?

I don’t know about you, but this feels huge.

God is about to bring form and purpose to the heavens, the earth, and every living thing. And this ancient text takes the time to let us know that in the moments leading up to this creative act, God is breathing.

Relaxing.

I wanted to share this to you because each of us has deep areas where we feel a void. Maybe we even feel parts of us are being wasted.

I also believe that each of us is created in God’s image. God is a creator, and each of us, as a woman, has areas where she’s called to create.

Maybe you’re hovering over a deep in your own life, wanting to bring life into that area. There’s a temptation to white knuckle it, to will something into being. To force it. Or maybe you’re exhausted, and the temptation is to be passive.

In this passage, God shows us a third way. God is aware, attuned, fully awake and alive to the possibilities. Yet relaxed.

When I think of this active state of relaxation, I think of the moments right before giving birth, or moments of intense creative flow. It takes all my strength to stay relaxed as the waves of creativity roll over me. I alternate between extreme exertion and full relaxation. I’m relaxed, yet turned on.

I respect the holiness of this state enough to admit I can’t work myself into it. And I respect you enough to admit I can’t talk you into it.

But sometimes we need to reminders that this state of relaxed creativity is meant for us. I know with every fiber of my being that every one of us was born for this. We were created to see the void, the waste, the lack, the emptiness. And in the face of that, we relax. We breathe. We notice what is about to become and we give ourselves to it without crushing it.

God’s presence is already there. It’s just close enough for us to feel it’s warm attention and intention toward us.

What parts of your life are awaiting God’s creative presence? How would things change for you if you saw creativity as both spiritual and relaxing?

Hannah Kallio is an Israeli who’s at home in France, Italy, and Minnesota. A homemaker who had it all, gave it all away, and lived out of a backpack. She loves one man, 5 kids, and the crazy story God is writing in their lives even more than palm trees, ancient ruins, and deepest dark chocolate. She writes, coaches, speaks, sings, and creates her guts out at hannahkallio.org.

Photograph © Sandra Ahn Mode, used with permission