Essays on Art by Artists

I received a new book via UPS a couple of days ago that I have had on myAmazon Wishlist for a long time. It’s called It was Good: Making Art to the Glory of God. It’s a collection of essays by over 20 different writers, who also happen to consider themselves artists, and who also happen to call themselves followers of Jesus. Each of them is writing about being creative and making beauty as one made in the image of God, the Ultimate Creator.
I’ve been excited to read this book as I’ve felt for a couple of years this “something” inside of me that God has placed there that is a desire to create, to “do art,” for lack of a better phrase. I’ve dabbled in lots of different things trying to find exactly what that specific “something” is: sewing, music, visual art, writing. And I think it’s somewhat of a combination of those things. But I don’t want to just make something that’s cheesy looking or sounding like so much of Christian art and music; i want it to be truly good. And this is where I think I’ve gotten sidetracked because I want it to be good right away and not fail. But I guess everyone’s gotta start somewhere. I mean, even Jesus had to learn the trade of carpentry from His father, and I’m sure He probably couldn’t build houses at His first get-go.
Anyway, I read the reviews of this book, which made it sound awesome and inspiring to get out your pen, instrument, paints, pencils, whatever and start creating for the glory of God. Larry Norman (from waaaay back in Christian music) once sang, “Why should the devil have all the good music?” Why should the kingdom of darkness have all the good art?
Well, as soon as I read the book, I’ll post my thoughts on it. I’m waiting on another Amazon book I purchased at the same time on a similar subject, but more “hands on” oriented. We’ll see what it’s like when it gets here. I had a couple of small gift certificates for Amazon, so of course I buy books.

Still Awake

I’m still awake at almost midnight. Jake and I just finished cleaning up after another perfomer-packed open mic, and now he’s jamming on bass guitar with a few other night-owl musicians upstairs. I actually “performed” at this month’s event, just to diversify things a bit. Mostly we have a lot of people playing guitar and singing songs they wrote or cover songs. One regular brings his uke and does a song or two on it. I, however, am not currently proficient at any instrument, though I’m learning banjo–at a much slower pace than I’d prefer–therefore, I read a few poems I’ve written recently. Here’s one of them, the untitled one.


In the little closet where the windows to my soul
are closed and my internal pose is prone
I crave an occasion where majesty and awe
take over and I am left exposed to its power
to vaporize any sense of self left lurking
in the shadowy clefts hiding from the light.
I cannot begin to delight in a world devoid
of this wonder and beauty beyond imaginings.


Limit me not to my mere faculties of mind,
but open wide the gate of beyond-all-I-could-hope;
open wide the window where I shout in joy,
calling out things that are not as though they are,
as I hold hands with the presence of the One
who hovered over the surface of the untamed waters;
open wide the door of flames through which
I will walk to be overtaken by the all-consuming Fire.