One of the pleasures of middle adulthood is developing better knowledge of myself. I’ve learned the past decade or so that I need to be creative in some aspect of my life or I quickly spiral down into feeling overworked and unfulfilled. (I’ve also discovered that my husband is similar).
Some of us are just made to be makers. Whether it’s music, or handicrafts or engineering, some people are just wired to be creative. I think as a person of faith, it puts me in touch with the divine in a way that nothing else can. It can also be one of the best, most frustrating things. The knitted garment that I’ve had to frog twice because the gauge is all wrong. The writing project that has been stuck in the slough of editing for far too long. The embroidery stitch that I just can’t seem to understand. (French knots, I see you). I have tried to quit so many times but I understand now how I’m wired and I know that I’ll come back around to it, eventually.
I also know the joy that comes with a project finished, a piece published or performance perfected. My children don’t quite understand this yet. They ask “Why do you keep doing it if it’s so frustrating?” I tell them it’s because most of the best things in life require periods of discomfort and frustration. There is such satisfaction in accomplishing something that took effort and grit, even more so when the end result is beautiful.
I often wish I had more practical skills (though my husband informs me that knitting should be considered magic because I make clothes from string), but I’ve learned to value the beauty that making things can bring to the world.
I get to tap into the creative spirit of our creative God, to imbibe a tiny bit of the joy he experiences. I’ve been made to make. Maybe you are too. In fact, I think most of us are.
Back to participating in Five Minute Friday for the first time in a while.
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