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Creating Still

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Marjorie J. Thompson


Ah, God!

When I look at what your fingers fashion,

            who am I?

            Who are we?

Artist Supreme,

            painting color, shape,

            texture new each hour

            as created light,

            your subtle and astonishing servant,

            passes over

            and through each thing.

You alone have power

            to create ex nihilo afresh,

Yet you give us power

            to become your own

            sons and daughters,

            creative joy imprinted

            on our souls in the indelible

            ink of your love.

For you love inspired beauty

            and share what you love

            with whom you love.

 

Ah, God!

How my soul thirsts

            for beauty!

How my heart opens

            to the pulse of your fullness

            when I drink

            in the wonder,

            the wonder,

            your fingerprints everywhere.

I touch them,

            let their curving, tender lines guide

            my hands that add

            tentative strokes to your canvas.

Can it be true,

            you want to create

            through us?

            You are creating still, and we

            frail creatures wrought

            by your heart’s caress,

            bear now the threads of your

            unfolding handiwork.

 

Ah, God!

            Can it be right to crave

            such beauty

            when people shrivel, starve.

            seeking only simple life?

Are we not bidden to the labor of artless

            unadorned virtue?

 

Oh, my child!

Do you not see?

It is in darkness you must

            gain the eye for beauty.

How shall you know the delight

            of goodness but as it shines

            against hardened hearts?

How feel the joy

            of light except as it sparkles

            through the shadowed land?

It is here in this world

            of fearful gloom

            that my creation will continue to burst

            forth from the tomb.

And you, dear heart,

            let it burst from your soul,

                        spirit mirroring my glory.




From Weavings: A Journal for the Christian Spiritual Life, March/April 2002 (Vol. 17, No. 2). Copyright © 2001 by The Upper Room.

 

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