Painted any Bison lately? The Battlefield of the Creative Mind

“Man, that sucked!” These words or some derivative version of them have condemned every creative pursuit since the dawn of time. I can see some poor caveman with his crushed-up rocks and minerals (a-la paint), trying his best to paint the bison he was hunting that morning while muttering about how all the other cavemen will mock him for his amateurish attempt. 

How about you? Painted any bison lately? Whether your creative endeavour is public speaking, writing, photography, cross-stitch, dance or mime, what do you hear in your mind as you create? And what do those voices say when it’s time to share what you’ve created?

My daughter, bless her heart, draws the most crotchety-looking pictures of me, and despite the fact that the belly is on the money (you’d think she could have shaved off a couple of kilos), she thinks it is a masterpiece, and you know what? So do I. Do you know why? Because she did her best, she poured her heart and soul into this thing (I say thing because I’m not always sure what I’m looking at) that she created, and presents it to me with so much joy, and for that very reason, it brings me joy. I can see what it was intended to be, and I can sense the heart behind it, not just what it is. The value of the art is determined not only by what it is, but by the efforts that created it, the joy I derive in the creation, the heart behind it, and how it is perceived by the intended recipient of that art.

“The value of art isn’t just what it is—it’s the heart, joy, and effort poured into it.”

I write. I write because, as far back as I can remember, I have dreamed of writing, and it brings me joy. And that should be enough. Of course, I want others to read what I’ve written, but that can’t be where I derive my worth and joy from. I don’t create for others, I create for me first.

I don’t create for others; I create for me first.

Creatives are those brave souls who have chosen to expose their inner workings to the world. It takes incredible vulnerability to craft something and then take this thing you have poured yourself into, and present it to an audience you cannot control. Whatever your medium, be it words – both spoken and written, song, music, movement, art… Know this, you are brave – the endeavour alone makes it so.

“Creatives are brave souls who expose their inner workings to a world they can’t control.”

As we grow up, some unkind and some warranted criticism comes our way and robs us of the liberty with which we create. Some of us can still vividly recall the moment or moments that broke the creative liberty within us.

I remember trying out for our school choir in Primary School. We were all at the tryouts. My mom couldn’t make it. And when the teacher called me up, I stepped forward bravely and gave it my best shot. After I had sung, she leaned in and whispered, although it felt like everyone could hear: “Perhaps there are other extracurricular activities that would be better suited to your talents?” Later, when I told my mom, she confirmed what the choir master had said: “Oh, love. Maybe she’s right and you should leave the singing to someone else.” My mom was not being cruel; she just wanted to save me from further heartbreak.

Fast forward fifteen years, and I found myself serving as the Worship Pastor of a Church, and while I loved it dearly, there were times when I could still hear those voices, despite what God had spoken over me. Despite the fact that He was being glorified in and through my life. I found it much easier to recall the negative things that were spoken over me than the good.

“There is a mental battle we wage when we seek to create. And it will cripple us if we let it.”

I look back at those years, leading worship, with fondness and joy, and I now know that the self-doubt and self-critical thought spirals I found myself in were not only pointless, but diabolical in nature. God desires for His children to create. To bring forth beauty and glorify Him in the process. And the enemy will do whatever he can to keep that from happening. More light, worship, and beauty in the world, not on his watch.

A friend and I were speaking recently, and he confided in me that he’d spoken to a group at Church, and he shared that as he got off the stage, the condemnation started to wash over him. “That was terrible. You could have done better. Is that the best you had to offer God? Do you think anyone is going to respond to that weak message?” As he shared this with me, I asked him: “Did you give all that you had to give?” And he said, “Yes!” “Well, then,” I replied, “that was enough for God. Trust that He will do the rest.”

We are not called to be perfect. We are not called to be the best of the best. We are called to be faithful with what we have to give. We bring our fishes and loaves, and we watch God make more out of them than the simple sum of their parts. If I believed that success or failure when I sing, or preach or paint relies solely on my own ability, then I will be crippled by doubt and the futility of my feeble attempts to move people with my art. But if I recognise that I am being fuelled by, being inspired by, and being interpreted by a God who not only put that creative spark in me, but also helps those who receive what I have created interpret it as He would have them do. If that is my departure point, I can give my all and trust Him for the rest.

“We’re not called to be perfect; we’re called to be faithful with what we have to give.”

Will it always land? No. Will everything I create be gold? Also no. But as I learn and grow, I get better. And I take solace in the knowledge that I am further along now than I have ever been. But there’s no shortcut. The only way to great is through the bad, then mediocre, then good, then better, then great. And it takes that consistent application of our craft and the desire to be better tomorrow than we were today. So, to those of you who create and who are fighting the mental battle that goes with it, I want to share the following:

1. Forget what is behind and strive for what is ahead. The failures dwelt on, the unkind, unnecessarily critical voices – both your own, and those of others – these won’t help you in your journey as a creative. Choose your scenius (your tribe) and trust those honest, but kind voices. Choose to listen to what your Father has spoken over you and let it overwrite the lies that were spoken before. Dwelling on your failures can be fuel, but it can also destroy. Learn from them, and then put them behind you. Your time is better spent focusing on what God has placed before you today and the destiny He has in store for you tomorrow.
   
   
2. Don’t give up. Your voice matters. Your story matters. What you create is a gift to the world, so keep working at it. That said, we’ve all seen enough talent show auditions to know that not everyone can be a singer or an artist. I’ve always wanted to draw, but my four-year-old is currently beating me in that department; I just don’t have the aptitude for it. That’s why we need a tribe, people who love Jesus and love you enough to be honest, and hopefully know what they’re talking about. Don’t ask your spouse or mom – they tend to lie or soften the blow too much. Perhaps you just need to keep working at it, or maybe singing or art is not for you. Move on to the next thing and trust that God will reveal the giftedness He has placed within you. But if you have a creative spark in you, and it’s been confirmed by God and people, then for goodness’ sake, create! And work at your craft.
   
   
3. Lastly, focus on Progress, not Perfection or Performance. My heart broke for my friend when he confessed the condemnation he was experiencing, because I’ve been there, heck, on a bad week, I still am there. But I know his heart. I know he loves God, and he gives his best. I also know he’s very critical of himself. And I’ve heard him speak, and he’s great at it. But like all of us, he compares himself to others: great speakers who have been at this for years. And there’s nothing wrong with learning from others who have honed their craft. But when I am comparing my Year 1 to others’ Year 12, that’s a comparison that kills. I always tell the story of when I discovered Bethel’s first Worship album. I was sitting at my dining table one night while working and started playing it, and as I listened, I heard the artists I know and love – but man, they sounded ROUGH. This was their Year 1. Their equipment was what they could afford. They were still coming into their voices. And I don’t share this to shame them. I share this because I found that album deeply encouraging. If we surrender our gift to God and let Him guide us in honing it over a lifetime, it will be a great light in a world that, let’s face it, needs more light.

“Comparison kills—don’t measure your Year 1 against someone else’s Year 12.”

I once listened to a talk by Abi Stumvoll, a speaker and coach, and she was sharing how she struggled with a performance mindset when it came to speaking. It had to be perfect, and it was all about her own efforts. And she shared this Scripture in Ezekiel 16:14 (NIV) that reads: “And your fame spread among the nations on account of your beauty, because the splendour I had given you made your beauty perfect, declares the Sovereign Lord.” Some translations use the word “complete”, as in “The splendour I had given you made your beauty complete.” She shares how we all pour into a glass what we have to give with what the Lord has given us, but that God comes and He tops off what we have to give and makes it complete. For some of us, even when we’re giving our all, we can maybe get the glass two-thirds of the way full when we create, but God comes and He takes whatever we have to offer, and He tops it off with His splendour.

Too many times, I’ve made it all about my own ability, but the truth is that on my best day, I’m a 7. But with God in the mix, I’m a 12. I’ve had days when my voice is shot, I feel underprepared and tired. And as I step off the stage, I feel like I failed, only to have someone come up to me afterwards to say that they had this awesome encounter with God as I spoke. God tops up what we have to bring. And often, what people perceive, hear, or His Spirit interprets experience as they receive it. All I need to do is give my best and show up. He will do the rest.

“On my best day I’m a 7; with God in the mix I’m a 12. He tops up what I bring.”

So, Dear Reader, can we make a commitment to one another? That as we create, we bring all we have to bring, and then we leave it all on the page or stage or mat, trusting that God will do the rest. Because He will… Praying for you in the journey.