Picture Book Look

Out of the Mouths, Er, Hands of Babes

on March 4, 2015

Have you ever gone through life, minding you own business, and then, one day something happens that makes you question one of your core beliefs? That day came for me on November 5, 2007.

On that day, my 10 year old son sat down at the kitchen table with a piece of paper and pencil. He balled up his left hand and began sketching his fist. After a few minutes, I noticed went to see what he was doing. As I looked over his shoulder, I was amazed at what I saw. Appearing right before my eyes was the image of a clenched hand. . .my son’s. I stood, eyes fixed on the sketch as it took shape on paper. My son was oblivious to my presence, lost in his own world.

I had suspicions the kid was artistically talented. Since the age of two he had been able to pick out hidden images in the Highlights magazine faster than either me or my husband could. And, he saw things in ways other people didn’t. He saw everyday objects in clouds, on the bark of trees and in the grass. But on that November day, I couldn’t deny the creativity pouring forth from my son. My son. The question formed in my mind, “How did he get so creative? Where did that talent come from.” Not really expecting an answer, I was surprised when, within my spirit, I heard the following, “He is your son. His creativity comes from you and David. He is creative because you are, and you are creative because I am the Creator and I have created you in my image.”


From me, total silence as I soaked in the message and meaning of what I’d just “heard.” This, to me, was a game changer. A life changing idea. Me, creative? “Hold on a minute,” I wanted to argue. “Not me. Not creative.” And then, I started to wonder if it could be true. Was I creative? If so, how, and in what fashion?

I had believed my lie for so long, that I needed to take some time to just let the concept sink in. I went to my Bible, which I have been reading since 1988, and there it was – the fifth word in Genesis 1:1, “created.” “In the beginning God created. . .”  Wow. How had I missed this?

And then, it started to all make sense. I was creative. I am creative. I had to be. I’m God’s creation, created in his image. But how? How was I creative? I mentally glanced back at my life, looking for any glimpse of creativity. Any sparkle. Any glimmer of color splashed upon an otherwise barren desert, and found nothing. Some ladies flashed their creative side in fashion. Not me. Some, in decking out their homes in the trendiest colors and accessories. Nada. Others spent the whole of their careers creatively as actresses, artists, singers and such. That sure wasn’t me either. So where did I fit in to this whole creative concept? I really had no idea, but like a child free to linger over the candy counter, the horizon ahead of me was spotted with colors of all kinds. I could do this. . .Hmmm. Or, I could try that. . .Maybe I would enjoy this. . .

And so it began. November 5, 2007.

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