“I scratched out words and wrote what I thought were better ones, aiming at something excellent even a I was aware of how pathetically short I fell. It didn’t matter that I would probably never show anyone what I had written, though I admit I harbored a wild hope that this page of words was important somehow, even if it would only ever be important to me. I saw something beautiful, felt something profound, and was compelled to express it on paper.”

Andrew Peterson is an author, singer-songwriter, and artist. He wrote Adorning the Dark as a biographical text on how to be a Christian Creative. But it’s a lot less, “How,” and a whole lot more, “Here’s what you’ll learn along the way.”

I loved it. Like 5 ⭐️ kind of love.

But when I finished, closed the cover on my many little underlines and side comments, when I put the book down I had to ask myself, Why? Why did I love this book so much?

Sure, it may have been the little, “me too” moments, like when he gushes over Rich Mullins music and Wendell Berry novels. It may have been the story of how he and his wife moved out of the city and into a run-down home on a large plot of land and then slowly made it an oasis from the world, complete with garden paths, wildlife visitors and a little creative studio. Or maybe it was all the connections to community. I identified with so many points along the way. But, that seems like low-hanging fruit. This book touched me deeper than that.

Before this book, I didn’t consider myself a Creative. That’s a title I have always given to my artist-garderner-surfer brother and my painter-fashionista-photographer sister. Me? I sort of sing and sort of sew and sort of bake. I can follow directions and things mostly turn out alright. I don’t look in the pantry to see what’s left at the end of the week and come up with a gourmet meal. That’s creative and that’s not me.

But Peterson changed my thinking. He makes a very strong point that God created man in his image and since God is The Creator, his image-bearers must also be creative. We are all Creatives. And we are all meant to use our creativity, little or big, to glorify God in our little corner of the universe. What we create and the joy we get out of creating comes directly from understanding that we are beloved by God. Think about that, let it soak in, then do something to out of the overwhelm of being loved. That’s creating for the glory of God. Oh, it’s such a good point.

• He admits, it’s difficult because we get in the way. We doubt. We get self-conscious. But if we just start and surrender the results to our Creator, he can make our feeble attempts at beauty something truly beautiful.

“I’ll probably always be self-conscious, so the battle to make something out of nothing at all will rage on, and I’ll have to fight it in the familiar territory of selfishness until the Spirit winnows my work into something loving and lovable. I’m longer surprised by my capacity to self-doubt, but I’ve learned that the only way to victory is to loose myself, to surrender to the sacredness — which is safe than insecurity. I have to accept the fact that I’m beloved by God. That’s it.”

• He urges the reader to simply start. Write the words. Toss the clay. Plant the seed. Don’t just write the good songs, “write the bad ones too.”

• He goes on to explain how creativity happens in community, but even more so, creativity nurtures community.

• Finally, Peterson argues creating leaves something for others to enjoy. We all long for connection, for home (ultimately Heaven), for beauty. Leave something for others to connect to, something that points others home.

One holy way of mending the world is to sing, to write, to paint, to weave new worlds. Because the seed of your feeble-yet-faithful work fell to the ground, died, and rose again, what Christ has done through you will call forth praise from lonesome travelers long after your name is fortotten. They will know someone lived and loved here.

In my conversation with Marissa Henley, she shared her prayer that God would make her aware enough of her mortality to not waste the “Extra Time” (as I call it) that he gave her on earth but not so aware that she lived in fear. That prayer niggled in the back of my mind, trying to form a connection to the feelings and ideas stirred up in Adorning the Dark.

This is what I think God is trying to teach me: He gave me more time. And he’s given me talents, small ones, but they are there. What will I do with it? What will I do with my “Extra Time” and my talents to bring him glory?

Listen, I have a full life: a job, a family, a house, kids with special needs, friends I want to connect with…. But…

• I can spend an hour and mix together ingredients to turn flour and sugar into cookies that can be shared. I can create in my kitchen.

• I can spend five extra minutes at the coffee shop to skip Instagram and type out a text to a friend I haven’t heard from in a month. It doesn’t have to be a Robert Frost poem. (Remember, “write the bad ones too.”)

• I can plant more flowers in my backyard this spring and watch them grow to the delight of my soul. Even if no one else sees them, I will. And I am always, every-single-time drawn to worship when my backyard is brimming with color and little birdies are hopping in and out of the shadows.

You and I are very deeply beloved by God. Let that love move you to create something. What are you thinking about right now? … Good, now start.