Paula Moldenhauer



Sudsy water splashed on my hands. The distant mountains, framed by my kitchen window, captured my gaze. But in the quiet of this mindless task, something beautiful unfolded. The scrubbing of dirty dishes and even the delight in the distant view faded. I entered that creative space when everything in this reality becomes only background music to the world where the Creator and the created create.

Oh, how I love that together place! It can be as real as tangible realities—like the warmth of dishwater, the floor beneath my feet, or even the stuck-on residue of melted cheese from the meal’s lasagna. In that other place plot twists are played out, character motivations are understood, and troubling sentences right themselves. Here the most creative Being of the universes—God Himself—intersects with our innate creativity. It is a creative communion. And it can happen anywhere—in the shower (what is it about water?), driving down the road, or while you vacuum. 

Have you ever compartmentalized God? The efforts to do Christianity right sometimes messes with Christianity’s whole point: living in on-going, minute-by-minute, person-to-person relationship with Jesus. Christians can focus on Christianity’s disciples (quiet times, church attendance, etc) in a way that relegates our interactions with God to a particular time or place. When we do this, we miss out on creative communion (and joy!) that could be a natural part of any day—or night. We’re so busy scheduling God that we schedule Him right out. 

But maybe your faith journey is in the opposite extreme. You miss out on experiencing relational interplay with the Creator because to you He is an awesome, omnipotent, distant Being. Maybe you’ve believed that God put talent in you, and it’s your job to figure out how to use it. He has more important things to do than hangout with you and create. Maybe you never even thought about inviting God into your writing journey. 

The good news is our God is with us, and wants personal interaction. Jesus promises, “I will ask the Father, and he will give you another advocate to help you and be with you forever” (John 14:17, (NIV). The advocate Jesus promised those who believe in Him is the indwelling Holy Spirit. Jesus further says, ‘I am in my Father, and you are in me, and I am in you” John 14:20, NIV).  As we move throughout our day, our Lord is there. As we sleep, He is there. As we struggle with our writing, He is there. 

A more complete rhythm of graceful creativity is ours. A simple prayer—a relational mindset that invites Him into every moment, stays opens to His whispers, and delights in creative communion, is available. We can rest in Him even as we wrestle with that next scene of our novel. We can go to sleep inviting Him into our dreams or do the dishes inviting Him into our thoughts. 

Then—when it’s time to plant ourselves in front of the computer to mind map, brainstorm or write another scene—that blank page isn’t frightening white space. It’s simply the next place you step into with your Creator.  You’ve already been in creative communion throughout your day. What you experienced in that wonderful space can spill onto the page.


PS And of course creative communion continues while you actually write. I love watching my husband, who sits with me in the office today, typing away. He’s preparing scripts for his podcast. And when he feels his words are not yet fully right, he leans back, closes his eyes, and rests in creative communion. Soon he is again typing away!