Writing, drawing, creativity in general is a lot like having a baby. It’s a process.
You don’t just “sit down and write.” I don’t, anyway.
As much as I’d love a fertile mind that conceives pages of brilliance as easily as I seem to conceive babies, the truth is that it takes a seed thought here, and here, and millions swimming through my brain before
One takes hold.
So I sit down and start trying to push that thought onto paper.
Sometimes I’m sure it’s “time,” just to find my labor is fruitless. Trying to force it is like trying to act on premature Braxton-Hicks contractions. It’s like my body plays these tricks on my eagerness to meet my new bambino. As infuriating as these disappointments are nine months pregnant, they work to prepare me for the real thing.
Same with writing. After waves of inspiration rolling over me without the words melding together, finally, the time is ripe. If it’s in the middle of the night, good luck sleeping. Those words want out.
Oh, the labor as I struggle to find the perfect word. The glorious pain. The blind love that’s sure this masterpiece is the best one ever, and if not the best ever, then, well, you know, my best ever.
Then come the afterpains as I secondguess every word. The uncertainty when people don’t think my “baby” is as beautiful as I do. And overriding all of it, the fearful wonder of being entrusted with such a gift.
What if I fail?
What if my labor doesn’t get appreciated by the world?
What if my contribution won’t bless the world as I pray it will?
In the end, my fear isn’t justified. This gift God has given, He will see that it is used for His glory.
As I submit my feeble gift to Him, whether it’s a blog post or a perfect baby, I can trust that “Faithful is He that calleth me, who also will do it.” That he that began a good work in me will perform it until the day of Jesus Christ.
In any creative endeavor, whether it’s crafting custom jewelry or personalized kids clothes, styling hair like a boss, constructing a church building, or planning a city, the creative spark is all the same.
There’s the gleam in the eye as inspiration hits.
There’s the pain of growing, changing, adding more than you believed was possible.
There’s the anguish of effort.
More than anything, though, there’s the ecstasy of co-laboring with the Creator who inspires us to wise-hearted endeavors. The joy of creativity surpasses all the pain like the joy of parenthood overshadows childbirth.
And even when an undertaking fails, like my first unborn child’s early loss, there’s the assurance that He who gave His only begotten Son works all things together for good to them that love Him, to them who are the called according to His purpose.
How has God called you?