God and Our Ability to Create

I think about God and creativity a lot. A lot a lot. Like, from the moment I realized the two were not mutually exclusive but knitted to each other like my fifth grade home-ec project (which was pretty impressive), I’ve been thinking about this.

Why?

Because it’s amazing.

Let’s just talk about the groundwork behind this idea, shall we?

Continue reading

Advertisements

Mountains and Valleys

I was taught that my spiritual life looked like a series of mountains and valleys. I would reach the top of the mountain and have a Dali Lama revelation. I’d barrel back down the mountain on wings of spiritual renewal, and then I’d use that residual energy to trudge my way through the valley in search of the next Spiritual Mountain. 

This analogy taught me that the only times I would have meaningful moments with Jesus would be when I was on top of the mountain. Valley-time was to be endured. I was meant to conquer the mountain with blood and sweat so I could earn my moment at the peak. 

Thankfully Jesus is helping me get over that stupid idea. 

But why is it stupid? Why should we not live for those precious raw moments with Jesus? 

By putting too much value on them we end up seeing our lives in reverse order. The Lord provides you with daily bread.

Daily.

That means every day, in case you didn’t know.

In fact, I’m gonna say it again. 

EVERY. FREAKING. DAY. 

We tend to view those big moments as the great big fabulous weekends in our humdrum lives. In reality it’s the stuff that happens on the weekdays that makes up the majority of your life. So why the hell would Jesus reserve his presence with you for the weekend? He cares about the entirety of your life, not just the major events. 

While I’ve had only a few Big Moments with Jesus, the little moments are too many to count. He’s sustained me with food day to day. He’s given me a refreshing point of view when I’m ready to scream in frustration. Or he offers me a moment of peace when work makes me want to maim someone. The roses in bloom around the city, the perfectly timed music in my headphones, laughing with my friends until my face hurts, that’s what actually sustains me. Those are his gifts to me, and they’re just as valuable as the Big Moments. 

My life with Jesus is not a series of mountains and valleys. It’s a life, full of work, friends, and the occasional great surprise. I don’t want to ignore my life just because I think I need to look for a big ass mountain. Jesus is right here with me, and he’s never leaving me. Not now, not ever. 

Quote: The Last of the Wine, On Seeking Truth

There is no People here. There are twenty-thousand bodies, imprisoning each a soul, the centre of a cosmos no other sees. Here they pause, and in each other’s company trifle a little time away, before each takes up again the labour of his solitude, by which alone his soul will live or die, his long journey home to God. Who can do good, without knowing what it is? And how will he find it, except in thought, or prayer, or in talk with a few truth seeking friends, or with the teacher God has sent him? Nor will it come in some catch-phase that can be shouted in the Agora, meaning the same to all who hear; but by long learning of the self, and of the causes of error, by bridling desire, and breaking it like a hard-mouthed horse, and coming in submission to the truth again, only at last by long labour it will be refined like gold. None of these things will happen in a crowd; but rather bending like a reed before the wind of wrath, or fear, or ignorant prejudice, catching by infection a false conceit of knowledge, or at the best a true opinion, not weighed and sifted out. What is the People, that we should worship it?”

Mary Renault, The Last of the Wine