Worship in a Dirty Kitchen
Art is such a powerful thing.
An invisible force. Like the touch of God.
I was listening to Christmas with the Chosen as I cooked dinner sometime in December. I was just so overwhelmed. The tree wasn’t up. No decorations. The dishes were piled up and everywhere, none of them clean. In order to cook, I had to wash the various pots and utensils I needed. I was so behind. I didn’t know it at the time, but I’d also just contracted COVID. I felt like a failure as a Christian and a woman. It’s amazing where dishes, decorations, and weariness can take our poor hearts. But, everyone still needed to eat, no matter how buried I was in unfinished tasks. I pressed on and I listened to those songs as I trudged through food prep.
And the music, that overwhelmed as well. The sweeping power of the instruments, the soaring voices, the story they told.
So there I stood, weeping in my dirty kitchen.
In my pajama pants and an old camp t-shirt, hair frazzled, everything frazzled, rising my hands up to God with headphones on my ears and teenage sons wondering if I’d finally cracked.
Now that is power.
When we make art, when we create, I truly believe that we reflect God.
We are made in His image and He is the creator.
If you are creating something today, do not scoff at its simplicity or lack of reach. You are walking in the footsteps of The Artist. When you set your mind, heart, and hands to make something new, it is a holy task.
That is power.
For you, as the apprentice creator, and for your audience as they encounter your art. Whether that audience is a toddler trying to fall asleep, listening to you sing “Jesus Loves Me” in your own special way or a sold-out crowd, it is a reflection of your Lord. It is power and beauty and strength.
Dare to create, my friend.
Dare to worship and follow the example of your Lord.
Genesis 1:27, 31
So God created mankind in his own image,
in the image of God he created them;
male and female he created them.
God saw all that he had made, and it was very good. And there was evening, and there was morning—the sixth day.
2 thoughts on “Worship in a Dirty Kitchen”
Thank you, Mom. Love you!