My mother helped make me an artist because she taught me to see as one struck by wonder. Through her eyes, I first treasured thistle’s down and oak’s curved limb, leaf’s shadow and bird’s wing, the shapes of clouds and the kind of smiles made only with eyes.
My mother also showed me I was not an artist, not because of what she taught me, definitely not, but because I simply could not see the potential of the creativity in myself. I was blinded by the beauty of her art.
For it moved through genres and mediums and dotted the landscape of my childhood — from oils to colored pencils, yarn and thread to bubbling yeast, from words to photographs.
Her creativity became the fullness of art’s very definition. When I saw I did not possess her patience, spacial intelligence or light touch, when I saw I could not draw or weave or bake like she did, I believed the lie that art did not exist in me, that I was not creative…
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We write about everyday faith, Living the Story with our hearts turned toward heaven and hands hard at work.
We find the beauty of grace in our tired reflection, in the eyes of laughter and in sorrow’s embrace; the revelation of redemption as we look upon yesterday’s mistakes and declare with the Psalmist, “But God.”
This month at Living the Story, we explore the theme CREATE. On September 30th, Emily Freeman of Chatting at the Sky will join us with her story, an opportunity for you to link up with your own and a chance to win Emily’s new book, A Million Little Ways: Uncover the Art You Were Made to Live.
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What you write of here is so relatable (maybe in part since we shared life with the same ridiculously and beautifully creative mother), but also because I believe it takes each one time to see our own gifts as unique and enough, putting aside the filter of comparison. Honestly, I’m still in that process, trying to figure out how to live out my own unique creativity, releasing this “pent up glory” as you say. Praying that my gifts, your gifts, would all be used for his glory. I love you sis.
Amen, Sis. I am praying this with you. I know we have walked much of this journey together both physically and spiritually…and how I wish you could see the overflowing creativity that I see in you. It’s in your gestures of love, the ways you teach, the meals you make, the parties you host, the ways you bring life and joy and energy to all you do. It’s easy to compare my gifts to yours and still see myself coming up short and yet I know that’s not what God is asking of his daughters. May we, all of us rejoice in these creative gifts he’s given — both our own and each others! I love you, Sis.