Created to Create

“How on earth do you have time for that?”

When I first began writing, this was by far the question I received most often. The inquiry was legitimate. My husband was in nursing school. My oldest was in the process of an autism diagnosis. My youngest was potty training. I was working part-time and found myself in the middle of a downward health spiral, which led to two autoimmune disorder diagnoses.

When you add all that to the regular requirements of being a human—carpool, dishes, cooking, laundry, groceries—it’s a wonder I had time to breathe, much less write.

The weird thing was I couldn’t keep from writing. Yes, I barely had time to breathe, but it was the one thing that seemed to help me keep breathing. Whenever I began to feel overwhelmed with the circumstances of our lives, I felt the urge to type out my thoughts. I joked about it being free therapy. But for a long time, I had an enormous amount of underlying guilt associated with every minute spent at the keyboard.

I stopped talking about writing. I began to hesitate every time I was about to share my latest post. I downplayed any growth or progress made through the hobby I loved so much. I spent years like this, and I often went through phases when I gave up writing altogether. I would try to focus all my energy on being a better mother, a better wife, a better housekeeper, until the day I realized writing makes me a better mother, a better wife, a better housekeeper.

We Are Created by an Unimaginably Creative God to Be Creative

I recently had the incredibly undeserved opportunity to watch the sunset over the Caribbean Sea. The countless shades of orange and red and pink and purple blended together, sandwiched between the deepest blues of water and sky.

Why is a sunset so heartbreakingly beautiful? God could have created this world to be completely functional without the bonus of beauty.

The apple trees in my backyard could have been created to function in a bland and boring way. Yet when I look out my kitchen window, I’m greeted by glorious white blossoms, each one the promise of a sweet fruit to come.

Mountains, rainbows, birdsong, oceans, canyons, butterflies—even in the cycle of life, as the leaves die on the trees, the colors paint a glorious landscape. He is a good, good God, and his creativity is on display all throughout the earth, perhaps most of all in us.

Genesis 1:27 says, “God created mankind in his own image, in the image of God he created them; male and female he created them” (NIV). If this immeasurably creative God created each of us in his own image, then the urge to create can be directly attributed to the One who formed us.

Ephesians 2:10 tells us, “We are God’s handiwork, created in Christ Jesus to do good works, which God prepared in advance for us to do” (NIV). Our creative God has intentionally knit together every one of us with an incredible variety of gifts and talents. His handiwork is not only seen in a sunset or heard in the babble of a brook, but also in the landscape painted by a grandmother and the piano solo played by a child.

When We Share Our Unique Gifts with the World, We Glorify the Giver

The Westminster Catechism asks, “What is the chief end of man?”

The answer is sweet in its simplicity: “To glorify God and enjoy him forever.”

To glorify God is to enjoy him. To enjoy God is to glorify him.

When we create, we’re enjoying our God-given attributes. Whether it’s singing a song, stitching a quilt, or acting on stage, we are drawing from the Creator. It is a gift to us as we enjoy participating. It is a gift to the world as it brings enjoyment to others. It is a gift to God as we continuously point back to him.

This brings us closer to the Father, and the side effect of walking closely with him is that we end up as better people—kinder, gentler, more patient.

Colossians 3:23 tells us, “Whatever you do, work at it with all your heart, as working for the Lord, not for human masters” (NIV).

Singers, sing your songs. Even if you think your voice isn’t good enough, make that joyful noise. No one does it like you.

Photographers, capture those moments. Even if you assume a million others are doing the same thing, we want to see those moments through your eyes. No one does it like you.

Writers, tell your stories. Even if you think you’re just one more voice lost in an ocean of storytellers, we need your words. No one does it like you.

Remember Psalm 139:14: “I praise you because I am fearfully and wonderfully made; your works are wonderful, I know that full well” (NIV).

Ashley Doyle Pooser is a wife and a mom of three. She recently moved to Atlanta, where she’s trying her best to be a responsible adult but feels like she’s mostly flying by the seat of her pants. She blogs at ashleydoylepooser.com.

Photograph © Brooke Lark, used with permission