yesterday as I left the craft store with my little bag of hope, my mother commented "You get that from me."
I thought for a moment, of all the hundreds of quilts she has crafted, the clothes she made for my siblings and me and all the grandbabies, for the unique decorations she made over the years and I had to agree. Yes. When it comes to the desire to craft things, it's my mother's genes influencing me.
As for the writing gene .... my dad was the storyteller.
Whether he was spinning a tale from his childhood escapades or thrilling us with a bible story, complete with sound effects and body motions, Dad could tell a story well.
I guess I never really thought about it before but yes, both my parents had/have a creative flow and it has passed on to my sibs and me. My sister is crafty with both words and art. One of my brothers creates beauty out of cement. Another brother is gifted with mechanical genius as well as offering wise and kind words as needed.
Last night I sat at my kitchen counter playing with stickers and painting pen, trying to turn little ceramic tiles into cute refrigerator magnets. I always have high hopes when it comes to arts and crafts but the truth is I can see it so clearly in my head yet my hands often betray me. Which is why I stick to writing.
Still the craft store woos me. I wander the aisles, lusting after all the dreams and hopes it's bounty inspires me with. I get into these crafty moods in cycles and will drop $20 in a heartbeat if I think it will allow me to turn something blank into something whimsical.
I sat back after a couple of hours and looked at my "handiwork".
I am super critical of myself in this area. My sweet husband leaned over my shoulder and applauded what I'd done but I just kept looking and frowning. I don't like my handwriting. I didn't balance things well. I want more/different stickers. I need more ideas for things to put on the tiles....
then I stuck my neck out even more by posting some pictures of what I'd done on facebook
for all the world to see...
Oh why do I do this to myself?
Berate myself I mean.
This is the sin of self confidence. The ability to see myself in the worst possible light. So quick to find fault with what I've done. So quick to forget that when God made me He smiled. He didn't create me and then sit back and think "I should have put her eyes a little closer together" or "I think I wired her wrong."
No, I have to believe that I, like the psalmist says, am fearfully and wonderfully made. That God delights in me... even sings over me, as it says in Zephaniah.
I suppose as long as I live, this will be the area I will struggle with time and time again.
I've certainly BLOGGED about it enough times!! But I can also laugh at myself and not in a harsh way.
I'll get this, eventually.
Meanwhile, there are still some blank tiles to play with....