Looking at the entire planet, some see an accident- others see a work of art. In leaves, shades of skin, snowflakes unique as personalities, and waterfalls some see chance.
I see a father. A maker.
In the car yesterday, listening to the weekly Top 20, I came upon a theory of the image of God.
In Genesis, God tells us that we are made in His image- but what does this really mean? Does t mean that we look like him? Sonud like him? Speak the same language?
What drives our lives? The desire to create. We create structures- design shelter and things that are asthetically pleasing. We paint and take photographs- we capture moments so we will remember them. We sing and create instruments and write- our of our imaginations.
We build relationships- forge bonds, attempt to design families. We do ridiculous things to create connections and love. Everything we do is an attempt to create- a purpose, a life, a happiness.
Perhaps this is what He meant by making us in His own image- not an appearance, but a desire. The desire to form something and to be praised for it and therefore be fulfilled by it.
Think about it- no mattewr where you are, you're trying to create something- if nothing, a better self. That in and of itself is done by creating a new attitude and perhaps a new habit or two.
Although me will never be able to make mountains by breathing over land, or paint a sunset, we will still all try to create just as our creator did. We will never grasp his reasons- but what reason does music have? We will never be able to tell what features of it's parents a baby will have. But we can paint it's likeness. We have so little control over so many aspects of life, yet we still try to guess at things we cannot fathom.
"So who are we to conquer?
Shouldn’t we the weak ones
Fall to our knees in awe
Of the maker of it all?"
What does it mean to those of us who are given the gift of creativity?
The novelists, the sculptors, the photographers, "hairbrush singers, dashboard drummers".
Are we set apart in some way? Does our ability make half of us embrace the designer of the things that inspire us, and half of us reject him because of the brokeness we encounter in them? All of the artists I know are completely submersed in either opinion. They either overflow with the joy that comes from a faith that grows with the obseravnce of what God has done, or reject Him. More often than not, from a sheer intelligence that goes beyond a typical human capacity to think on eternity and reason with moral concepts. They see the world through different eyes, that lunge at proof for the things they do believe in.
I have no idea why. This is simply an observation.
Do what you want with it.
Crazy Dreams- Carrie Underwood
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