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Do you ever wonder, deep down, whether your creativity—the art you love and the art you make—really has any intrinsic value or purpose?  How does painting a landscape, exploring themes from nature, or creating an abstract painting really matter in the big picture?

In all honesty, this question sometimes rumbles around in the back of my mind. And it gets kinda loud when I'm discouraged, frustrated, or simply feeling dry and uninspired. Do you ever hear a little voice of doubt whispering uncomfortable questions: 
        Does this really matter?
        What am I accomplishing?
        Is my time and effort worth it?

You know…those are the sort of questions that are particularly good at showing up when you're already having a trying studio day!

I'm putting this out there because I have a feeling I'm not the only creative soul who has these niggling thoughts. I've said many times and I truly believe we artists  have a God-given design. And yet, there are times when I wrestle with questions about the value of the artistic work I do.   Sound familiar?

Lately, though, another thought has been brewing in my mind—and it's beginning to speak more loudly than the voice of doubt:

Through our art, we can make visible what only we can uniquely see.

Think about that for a moment.  Every artist has been given a unique way of seeing. A particular viewpoint. A way of noticing, interpreting, feeling, and responding to the world that no one else has been given in quite the same way.

When I look at the natural world, I see the powerful yet gentle hand of God, its Creator. I see His attention to detail. His sustaining care and the incredible variety and beauty of His handiwork.  And when I paint a landscape or a flower—or even an abstract—I have the opportunity to draw attention to what I see.

What I’m doing is magnifying the glory of God as I create.

Magnify. That's a powerful word!  To magnify is to enlarge something, bring it into focus, and make it more noticeable.

That's what I'm doing when I paint.   Through my particular perspective, my style, my colors, and the way I arrange shapes and elements, I'm essentially saying:

"Look at this! Come see what I see!"

Glory is a little harder to define. It carries the idea of something having weight and importance—something that rises above the ordinary. Something beautiful and extraordinary.

These are true  words I need to remember when doubt, frustration, or discouragement begin to creep in.  And they give even the ordinary work of the studio a little more meaning.

I am magnifying the glory of God by making visible the wonder
I see in His created world.

When you hear that little whisper of doubt in your own creative mind, maybe it's worth asking yourself:   What has God uniquely given me to see—and how can I help someone else see it, too?

I'd love to hear your thoughts.  What has God uniquely given you to see—and how are you expressing it through your art?  Leave a comment, your thoughts are important!