“For we are the product of His hand, heaven’s poetry etched on lives, created in the Anointed, Jesus, to accomplish the good works God arranged long ago.” (Ephesians 2:10 VOICE)
Making a salad can be a creative and contemplative process. As I wash the vegetables, I thank God for the gift of plants and for creating sunlight, soil, and pollination. I am grateful for the farm workers who planted the seeds, watered the plants, harvested the vegetables, washed the dirt off, and made these vegetables ready for transport. I think of the truck drivers who drove these vegetables to the store and the supermarket workers who unloaded the trucks and arranged them in the produce section. So much work went into getting these vegetables into my hands. Now, it is my turn to make something meaningful out of all of this bounty. I chop the onions, slice the tomatoes, assemble the lettuce and spinach, and mix everything with vinegar and a few drops of oil. I add salt and pepper. I garnish the top with seeds and nuts. When I’m done, my countertops and floor are littered with bits of onions, drops of tomato juice, and the stems of peppers. I wash the cutting boards and knives. I wipe down the counters. I sweep the floor. Even though the process is messy, I enjoy serving my salad creations to my family.
My creativity is connected to the resources around me. I praise God for all of existence. I am grateful to all those who came before me and influenced me. Now it is my turn. I notice the raw materials, pick them up, and assemble them. I read, contemplate, and untangle knotty concepts. I write and rewrite. My creative process is messy. My thoughts are often incomplete and biased. The results are often sloppy. Even though I sense they are imperfect, I serve up my offerings. I continue this practice because this is how I make meaning. This is how I construct purpose. This is how I follow my calling.
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