“So God created mankind in his own image, in the image of God he created them; male and female he created them.”
– GENESIS 1:27
NOTE: You’ll have to indulge me a bit today. I’m going to brag about one of my own kids. Every parent undoubtedly overstates things about their kids — good and bad. In fairness, I owe it to you to give you a chance to prepare yourself with whatever “grains of salt” you need to enable you to read on.
I was looking back through some of the things in one of those “drawers” in which we put all the stuff we feel guilty getting rid of, but don’t really know what to do with. That drawer used to be full of all kinds of coupons for fast food restaurants (i.e. buy a burrito, get a burrito free) and expired oil change discounts. Now, it’s largely populated by kid-art I’m not “allowed” to throw away. There are cloudy landscapes and rainbows. There are a number of pages with my kids’ names inscribed with several different colors. There are saved pictures comprised entirely of stickers. But, every so often there are a few surprises. I came across this picture of a bird that I had placed in such a drawer a few years ago. Upon rediscovering it, I was overjoyed it wasn’t thrown away. My son painted it when he was nine years old.
I’m still struck by it. I have to remind myself that this is the work of a 3rd grader. I have a hard time fathoming how he was able to communicate all the intricacies and details of this bird and its shimmering reflection through the end of a brush. In looking at it, it’s hard not to say, “he was made for this.”
He has a five-foot by five-foot homage to Jackson Pollack on the wall in his bedroom that he painted a few years ago. Every drop of paint had an intention in color and placement despite its apparent randomness. He rarely goes anywhere without something on which to create. He draws cities and roads in perspective. He makes cartoon characters. He draws action figures. Sometimes what he puts in a notebook is little more than a rough outline or a doodle. Other times, he’ll disappear into another world that is silently bursting with creative force. To see him at work in art, is to see him fulfill what appears to be a part of his intended destiny.
We have lots of ways to describe this kind of person or the work they create. We say it about athletes, other parents we admire, people with great business acumen, comedians, actors, and leaders. We’ll use terms like: “They’re in their element,” “they’re a natural,” or that they have “God-given talent.” Of course, to observe a remarkable other person, it’s not uncommon to find something deeper within us in which we wonder, out of a place of shallowly buried insecurity, if we’re one of those people too. Or, more specifically, what if we’re not?
Said differently: is there anything about which we can say, “I was made for this?” Not many of us will have the gifts to become professional athletes, nor captains of industry, nor our idealized version of anyone. But there is something for which all people were created. It’s something about which everyone can say: “I was made for this.” The answer is both utterly spectacular and decidedly simple. And it’s the basis of our new teaching series. It’s the one thing for which everyone was made and the one thing in which everyone always needs help in figuring out.
This week, we’ll kick off our new series. This is a perfect opportunity to bring people who are wondering about big questions of purpose, meaning, and belonging.
See you soon,
Jeff