I used to have too much false humility to call myself an artist of any kind. I have been writing my whole life but never called myself a writer. Likewise I never dared to think about myself as a creative person, even though creating is as natural to me as breathing. I do not have mad drawing skills and I am not that good with paints. But my creativity is channeled into what I like to call redeeming art. I like to make beautiful and functional things out of old discarded objects which others found useless and threw away. I like to go treasure hunting in thrift stores and garage sales. I walk between the isles searching for pieces that have classic lines, things that used to be beautiful but do not appear to be so any more. At least not to most eyes. I have trained my eyes to see the beauty with my mind’s imagination.
Sometimes I find an old, scratched up tray and immediately see past the damage to what it could still be if sanded down, painted, and used as a base for a winter centerpiece. Sometimes I see a beautiful glass container so dirty that it has been pushed to the very back of the bottom shelf. In my mind, it becomes a beautiful terrarium filled with new life of green moss and a blooming orchid. These objects call out to me and ask to be given another chance, to be made beautiful again. But rarely is any of these thrift store finds beautiful or useful by itself. Only when restored and arranged into a composition with other such objects, can it draw an eye again with its complex and layered charm.
I think that God makes art in the same way. I imagine that He goes treasure hunting to thrift stores, junk yards, and garage sales. He may even go dumpster diving. You never know what kind of valuable things people gave up on and threw away. He finds us after we were marked down to 99 cents and pushed to the back of the bottom shelf. He has to bend down low to find us there. He can see past the thick coat of dust and some missing pieces. He sees us for what we were meant to be, for what we still could be. He gives us a good scrub and considers a fresh layer of paint. He can imagine us as a part of something beautiful and useful. He restores us to our original beauty and gives us an honored place once again. Yes, God is the kind of Artist who looks at his medium with keen imagination.
Sometimes creating something beautiful takes a very long time. A year and a half ago, I was given a cutting from a String of Pearls plant. My friend’s plant was full and luscious, and so I immediately envisioned how the new baby plant would fit into my kitchen window display when it gets more mature. But this little plant has been taking a very long time to grow, and it is still far from being full enough and pretty enough to be used the way I intended. Still I am not about to give up on it. My vision for it is still alive. In my imagination, I see it cascading down the beautifully restored antique teapot. For now, I keep it in my writing nook where I can have an eye on it every day and give it what it needs. I have tried many remedies to help it grow. I care for it gently and expectantly understanding that some plants have to develop a strong root system before they can thrive above the soil level.
It is the same with some of us late bloomers. Sometimes our growth is not so obvious, not so measurable. People are eager to give up on us not seeing quick results. They cannot see that the very deep layers of our hearts need some transforming work to be done before we can bear tangible fruit from our transformation. But God gets it. He is patient and kind with us. He does not demand fruit when it is obviously not the season for it. Instead, He gently tends to us and waters us, and keeps us close, so He can give us all we need to grow roots. Because LOVE is patient and kind, LOVE never gives up, and never loses faith (1 Cor 13:4,7).
A friend of mine is a skillful decorator. Her favorite style is somewhat modernized farmhouse where everything is beautifully streamlined, painted white and lightly distressed. It does create an appealing clean and cohesive look. I like it but only in small doses. Personally I hold the belief that not everything can be whitewashed. I have to be true to an object’s history, the heritage that lies beneath. Sometimes it is my own history on display. Other times, it is a mystery I can only guess or imagine. There is a beauty in an antique picture frame because it once held precious memories and was a witness to a family story. An old book to me is more than just an old book, for sometimes its pages are soaked with tears.
I have been decorating and creating this way intuitively, but I have to recognize that God has been teaching me all along about His ways of making beauty out of broken, forgotten, rejected, and the unfit. He is not the kind of Artist who goes to Pottery Barn and buys a brand new shiny vase for $49.99. He would much rather go treasure hunting. Restoring and repurposing is what He does best. He sees hidden beauty in everything the world throws away. He invests time and loving effort into making it shine again.