To Create

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What am I, if I am not creating for You? Why create, if it does not in some way glorify You? For vanity? Fleeting vanity.  

We were created with the desire to create, to self express. Most people, if not every people, create for their own notoriety. How long will the attention last? How long before you look at your work and hate it? If you are bound to create, if you have the pull to create, why not create something productive that will last? Something that will point others to the Creator, to the purpose and meaning behind all existence? Is it productive to create for the soul purpose of venting? Of letting off steam? It is productive to create to heighten your pleasure? To get other people to look at you? Of what value is your creation if it hurts someone else, or causes them to stumble? The answer, ‘For my own enjoyment, edification and expression,’ is not a good enough answer. It is in fact a selfish answer.  

“Therefore let us stop passing judgment on one another. Instead, make up your mind not to put any stumbling block or obstacle in your brother’s way. Let us therefore make every effort to do what leads to peace and to mutual edification.” -Romans 14:13 & 19 

“Do nothing out of selfish ambition or vain conceit, but in humility consider others better than yourselves. Each of you should look not only to your own interests, but also to the interests of others.”    -Phillipians 2:3-4 

People’s convictions are different, depending on if they are in Christ, and how mature they are in Christ (however, truth is still truth, and all Christians are held accountable to the Word of God). So if a Christian does not yet feel the conviction to point others to Christ through their instinctive creativity, all I can say is this: Think about it. At least ponder why God gave you certain interests and abilities, if not to use them for Him, and for His Kingdom? 

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Rock-a-bye Baby

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Sometimes my baby just wants to be held.

I sit on the floor, my legs straight out in front of me. And he, at eighteen months old, crawls into my lap.

His toes curl under his little bum.

He gathers is arms between his chest and mine.

He lays his head on my shoulder.

And I rock him.

I rock him back and forth, and side to side- sniffing his fine, fluffy hair, listening to his tiny breaths.

and I cry.