We’ve spent the last couple of weeks dwelling on the awe-inspiring nature of our Creator God. The sheer power of a Being who can take nothing and create something is mind boggling enough, but when we look at the intricate nature of that creation, its patterns and variety, we’re left speechless in wonder. Even in winter when the trees are dormant and all vegetation is covered in a blanket of snow, we see His creativity in each ice crystal and every flake of snow—each one minute and beautiful and varied.
As I consider the act of Creation, I can relate to the joy and satisfaction evoked through the words “let there be,” “and it was so,” and “it was good.” For when God created man in his image, a part of that mirroring of our Creator included a creative gene in all of us. I too know what it is like to have an idea, to take a blank piece of paper, string together words and phrases to form sentences and paragraphs and eventually create something new. Don’t get me wrong. My type of creating is infinitely inferior to God’s. I’ve never made something out of nothing. All the building blocks I have at my disposal were ultimately created by Him. But I do understand the act of creating, the work involved, the joy in the process, and the satisfaction of a finished product.
My husband and I have been slowly finishing the interior of our lake cabin several hours away. The progress is slow since we only work two or three days at a time a few weekends a month. Last weekend as I added stain and varnish to yet another piece of trim board, I couldn’t help pondering what it must have been like for Jesus the carpenter.
John 1:1-3 tells us unequivocally that Jesus was present at Creation:
“In the beginning was the Word, and the Word was with God, and the Word was God. He was with God in the beginning. Through him all things were made; without him nothing was made that has been made.”
Then, the Creator of the Universe willingly chose to take on human flesh and dwell among us. What went through His mind in that lowly carpenter shop as He worked on a piece of wood taken from a tree He created and formed it into something new? As He labored beside his earthly father and maybe a brother or two, did He remember that long ago time when He worked alongside his Heavenly Father and the Spirit to create EVERYTHING? Did he recall how the Father directed and He spoke it to be while the Spirit breathed life into it all?
What was it like to now create as man? Though bound by restrictions of human limitations and the tools of the day, did He still find joy in the process, the comradery of working together on a project, the satisfaction of a job well done? I believe He did.
In a sense, any time we paint a picture, compose a song, fashion a piece of furniture, create a meal, or write a story, we engage in worship. Though imperfect, our very act of creating reflects the glory of our Creator God, and it is very good.