It's human nature to think the one thing we lack is what’s holding us back.

If only we had more ______, all would be well.

A creative's time is best spent on their creative gifting.

The trouble happens when we try to do everything ourselves.

That’s not how God created us…or this world.

Being called by God to create and feeling ready to create are two totally different things.

You will never feel—nor be—completely ready.

No human has ever entered into any arena of gifting or testing with 100% certainty of the outcome. Not unless they’re playing it way too safe on a playground they’ve long outgrown.

We are drawn to kindred spirits who have similar creative gifts. We understand the beauty, the talent, and the sacrifices required to excel in those specific arenas.

But what starts as appreciation or inspiration can turn to comparison if we begin to measure our progress by their success.

Years ago, I was with a friend, expressing how overly busy my life had become. John Moorhead was a generation older and had accomplished many great things in his life. But he was never in a hurry.

How do you choose which creative projects to pursue? 

Focusing on what makes your heart beat faster is a good start…especially if your heart is filled with the fruits of the Spirit (love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness, and self-control).  

Artists are often asked "What are you creating?"  

A better question is "Why are you creating?"  

Passion, curiosity and joy fuel your creativity. Striving for validation or chasing fame or money drains it.  

Take a moment now to check your Creative Motive.

We want to be heard but have forgotten how to listen. 

We grow restless with silence so we seek distractions. We stare at our phones and miss each other's hearts. We lose interest in conversations that aren't about us. Our world grows small and we wonder why we're so lonely. 

Being creative involves a certain level of restless discontent.

That's an appropriate feeling—because something needs to be born and you're the only who sees it before it has form. Until then, others won’t understand the very thing you can’t quit thinking about it.  

Everything isn’t equal.

We know that, yet we keep falling for the allure of a balanced life.

Like an over-confidant plate spinner, we keep trying to balance more plates simultaneously. Doing so is exhausting—both for us and those around us. But as long as none fall and shatter, we keep adding on plates.

Imagine being at a rooftop party where you’re participating in an amazing celebration of freedom and creativity. But you aren’t just an observer or random attendee.

Your presence enhances the event.

We need relationship with God. And we need relationship with others.

Settling for one of the two is less than what we were created for.

That’s why Scripture tells us loving God and loving others are the highest priorities of our lives (Mark 12:29).

It’s possible to be homesick for a home we never knew existed.

At the deepest level, our desire for a home isn’t actually for a physical dwelling place. But rather, a place where we are completely known. Not where we were born but where we can finally and fully be who we were created to be.

Years ago, my wife and I faced one of the biggest decisions of our lives. A ministry in Colorado invited me to join their team. It would involve a cross-country relocation and saying bye to a twenty-year publishing career, a fantastic church, best friends, a stellar school, and the home we raised our children in. The salary was good but quite a bit less than my corporate paycheck. On paper, the decision to pass was a no-brainer. But we didn’t want to rely on human wisdom. We hungered for revelation. “God, we need a clear ‘yes’ before we commit. Or a solid ‘no’ and we’ll forget about it.”

Years ago, I was introduced to the ancient Japanese art form known as Kintsugi. It is a skill that repairs shattered pottery by infusing golden lacquer in the broken places. Shimmering liquid gold fills the cracks and holds the broken pieces together.

The process creates a one-of-a-kind piece of art by highlighting, rather than hiding, the brokenness. The repaired item is now seen as even more valuable, because there is no other vessel in the world like it.

Every choice we ever make is rooted in either love or fear.

Fear-based reactions come out in the form of control, offense, rage and scarcity.

Love-based reactions include grace, hope, expectancy and abundance.

Here’s an interesting question. What does chaos create?

Answer: nothing. Chaos can’t.

It can’t fill you. It is vast emptiness looking to consume you. It can’t produce love. It is saturated with fear. It can’t exhibit grace or kindness. Its essence is violent and abrasive. It can’t lead to abundance. Destruction leads to greater scarcity. It can’t birth new things. It seeks to end things.

Do you tend to view the Holy Spirit as creative?

In Genesis 1:2, God’s Spirit is described as brooding, or spreading its wings like a bird, over the murky nothingness. This is meant to be a life-giving image, not a delicate one. It describes a bold act, the transforming of chaos and emptiness into life and order.

In the storms of life, it can feel like we’re going under. As the water rises, so does our certainty that we’re going to drown.

And yet God’s never met a storm he can’t overcome. As his sons and daughters, he teaches us how to do the same. And he does so in ways that are never quite the same as the time before.

As you look at the churning waters around you, consider God's endless ways to deal with these liquid challenges.

We all have scars. Some are visible…but most are unseen. A betrayal from those we trusted. Silence when we needed support. Conditional love based on what we do rather than who we are. Though these wounds are often invisible, they cut deep.