Creativity

Letters to my Creator (Putting out my book collection one letter at a time)

Father,

I love you! I don't want to cry, and I'm about to.

Does it make a difference to You whether I am writing to You sitting on my bed with this pink blanket on me or talking to You on my knees? 

I don't know. 

But I feel better worshiping on the floor. It's like curling up into a fetal position makes it a lot less embarrassing for me while I do this laugh-cry thing I sometimes do when I pray. 

Oh, and Father, I love braces. 

I got a set for my upper teeth today. The doctor told me that UV rays and strong glue were used to stick the metal studs to my teeth.

But while I enjoyed learning such cool facts about this side of the medical field, the process itself was not fun at all. A plastic bracket thing was used to keep my mouth open for a long time, and that thing hurt.

And Father, the thought of coming near any strong electromagnetic field scares me a little now. I have little metal pieces glued to my mouth, so I will not be able to pass through metal detectors without making them beep. The dentist told me that security guards would just let me pass if I flashed them a smile. 

I was just telling dad over the phone that if I go under one of the big machines they use to pick up metal stuff from dumpsters, I'd float right up into it. Dad told me not to worry about that because such technology doesn't exist here. My sister thinks my theory is ridiculous, but I'm pretty sure it's possible. 

Unlike you, we don't really 'create' anything new here. We don't make anything from scratch. The buildings my college professors design and help build are made with resources that were taken out of a planet You made. And this whole braces thing is just a renovation project within an already created body. 

It feels like a real-estate renovation project, though. The land is my mouth, my teeth are the old, clustered houses, and the dentist is the architect, construction worker, site surveyor, etc. 

I determine the critical decisions, like whether he can fix some structures or whether I want them to remain there as old, valuable relics. I decide whether or not he can knock down some houses or not. 

The tools the dentist uses look like Medieval European torture weapons, though. I wish I could change how they look. But I guess the landowner can't choose everything. 

Perhaps the building analogy came so easily to me because I'm learning about buildings in college.

And Father, we build on a small scale. It will take the dentist a year and a half to finish this project, and it takes me months to finish a building project on my computer. But You build on a large scale. 

There's what You did in the beginning. Then, there's what Isaiah said about how You will create new heavens and a new earth. 

Now You, Creator, are beyond creative, and I'm so happy that humans were made in Your image. I stumble into the topic of creativity quite often lately. 

Yesterday, I read Bill Johnson's interpretation of Zechariah 1:19-21, and it inspired me so much I made a silly little 'drawing interpretation' of it. 

So, Johnson was talking about Zechariah's vision of four craftsmen who went to war. They weren't actual warriors on horses. They were craftsmen who had been sent to fight a spiritual battle. 

It was a lovely display of the value of creativity, Father. You are Love, and Love creates. It's fun to even try to emulate that in little ways. 

Thank You for having us made in Your image, Father. 

Thank You. 

Love,

-w 

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“For behold, I create new heavens and a new earth; And the former shall not be remembered or come to mind. But be glad and rejoice forever in what I create; For behold, I create Jerusalem as a rejoicing, And her people a joy. I will rejoice in Jerusalem, And joy in My people; The voice of weeping shall no longer be heard in her, Nor the voice of crying.

Isaiah 65:17 - 19 NKJV