Creativity Heals the Heart

Guest post By DiAnn Mills @DiAnnMills

Physical or Emotional Stress + Creativity = Healing.

Creativity allows us to use our imaginations to develop something beautiful. The artistic expression draws on a mysterious side of us that we don’t fully understand. We have an idea for an object that is admired, useful, and meaningful. We take that idea and develop it into a tangible item.

Through creativity, we can inspire, appreciate, and help ourselves or others heal from physical or emotional pain and trauma.

Creativity Heals the Heart

The foundation of pain is stress—mental, physical, emotional, or a combination. A proven method to battle against stress is to engage in creative art expression. This allows us to experience a sense of satisfaction while we welcome the involvement in an activity we love. By focusing on creativity, our minds and bodies find peace. The expression may not replace counseling or anti-depressants, but it will calm you and help you restore confidence in your life.

When stress no longer battles the body, blood pressure lowers. A positive attitude replaces irritability. Dizziness flees. Headaches vanish. Depression and anxiety diminish. Strength and energy are restored. All are good reasons to embrace artistic expression into our daily routine.

The type of creative expression is not the same for every person, and we have a variety of options to choose from. I’ll list a few activities below in alphabetical order that have been proven therapeutic.

Crafts

The list is endless, from sewing to refinishing furniture. If you are longing to spend hours in a craft, search for the one with the most appeal.

Dance

No need to be a professional to enjoy moving and swaying to music. The steps aren’t important, only the joy of feeling one with the rhythm.

Gardening

When I need a break from the world-of-overwhelmed, I head to the flower beds. The act of pulling weeds, cutting back leggy growths, and planting new growth and colors does more for the soul than a sleep-in-Saturday.

Music

Music soothes the soul. Close your eyes and relax to whatever style you prefer.

Painting or Sculpturing

The idea of picking up a paintbrush or dipping your hands in mud may not appeal to you, so choose what does. Doodle on a blank piece of paper or pick up a coloring book.

Photography

Enjoying photography doesn’t require professional ability or fancy equipment. Grab your phone and take a walk. Admiring unique lines, colors, and shadows helps us appreciate beauty outside ourselves.

Writing

Fashioning words on paper that reflect our dreams, thoughts, desires, heartache, trials, tragedies, and victories allow us to work through stress.

Don’t put off finding an artistic means to express your emotions. Begin now to find a creative way to heal and stay healthy.

DiAnn Mills is a bestselling author who believes her readers should expect an adventure. Her titles have appeared on the CBA and ECPA bestseller lists; won two Christy Awards; the Inspirational Readers’ Choice, and Carol award contests. She says, “We’ve all been given gifts and talents to further the kingdom of God. Don’t let them go to waste. Develop your skills and reach out to grasp that which God has purposed for you.”

The Dreaded Thistle

On my knees—and not in prayer—the Holy Spirit set up an appointment with my heart.

The enchantment of the late afternoon beckoned me to stay outdoors. Summer’s twilight created the perfect ambiance for lingering. Within minutes, a nearby flower bed called out, and soon I found myself on my knees pulling weeds. But not just any kind of weed. My target was an invader, the dreaded thistle.

This ruthless nuisance shows no mercy and sets out to conquer any place it decides to homestead. Additionally, the plant possesses mean, prickly stickers designed to punish the gardener with each attempt to pull it up by the roots.

With my impetuous self, I didn’t bother to don my gardening gloves, a decision I would soon regret. Consequently, my hands suffered from the painful pricks, but my obsession with the battle kept me at it.

“Then somewhere between bushes, right there on my knees this lovely summer evening, God the Holy Spirit invited me into the classroom of my heart. ”

— Debby Thompson

Like the harsh prick on my hands, my soul felt the painful sticker of an incident where I felt abandoned and hung out to dry. Thankfully, at the time of the occurrence, the Holy Spirit miraculously moved within me to extend forgiveness. But now in the solitude of my late afternoon gardening—out of nowhere—a prompt in my spirit alerted me to see yet another nasty thistle weed trying to spring up within me.

To ignore such prompting would be dangerous, as the Scriptural warning in Hebrews 12:15 (HCSB) urges, “Make sure … that no root of bitterness springs up, causing trouble and by it, defiling many.” What would be my response?

Bitterness is bad business, never stays contained, and starts as a tiny weed, just like the ones I was clearing out of the dirt. It would be so easy—and certainly human—to leave it alone. But God calls us to more. And His more is worth the commitment needed to keep any root of bitterness obliterated from our hearts.

So, there on my knees, surrounded by mocking thistles in my flowerbed, I submitted the soil of my heart to the Holy Spirit and allowed Him to pull out the seedling by its root and force it to die. Then, prayerfully releasing a fresh waterfall of grace over the entirety of the matter, I got up from my knees, looked around, smiled a quiet smile, and breathed in the wonder of it all.

Then sings my soul …

Living With Eternal Intentionality®

Intimacy with Jesus

Authenticity with others

a Passion for your calling

a Purpose for your influence

When recently did God nudge you to deal with the soil of your heart?

How did you respond?

What counsel would you offer someone who wants to nurse, rather than release, such a matter?

God, I Cannot Do This

“While the world was reading one story, God was writing another.”

Excerpt from the book, Pulling Back the Iron Curtain: Stories From a Cold War Missionary

“Oh, God, how am I going to make it? I am desperate for You. Never in my life have I felt this helpless.” Caught in the grips of an unimaginable struggle, this missionary wife and mom needed Jesus as never before.

In the summer of 1977, Larry and I, with our daughter, now finally resided as undercover missionaries behind the Iron Curtain. While enrolled as students in a summer language program in Lublin, Poland, we passed the days attending class, doing homework, and attempting to master a language foreign to our ears and awkward for our tongues.

Though trained to expect culture shock, the depth of shock plunged far deeper than our preparation. Without a break, we lived, breathed, and walked the streets of communism for the first time in our American lives. Operating behind the Iron Curtain—and behind the lines of NATO—gave the word alone a new reality and made textbook training inadequate.

The iron fist of communism screamed around every corner. Economic deprivation was astounding. Daily tasks became monumental. Even a standard phone call to parents in the U.S. required a forty-eight-hour advanced reservation; and then on the appointed day, we waited two hours in the post office for the international operator to connect the call. Once the call came through, we hyper-guarded our conversations for reasons of personal safety.

So, on this particular afternoon in time alone with Jesus, I assessed my situation and confessed:

Life was far more challenging than I expected. We washed clothes in a wringer washer, the type my daddy purchased for my grandmother when he returned home from World War II. The absence of a dryer and the cool summer weather made drying clothes especially difficult. Food lines outside nearly empty stores resembled black-and-white movie clips from the Great Depression.

Language school was far more difficult than anticipated. My high school Spanish class paled in comparison to this. The Polish language was daunting. I felt so stupid.

Lingering questions like “How did I get here?” shook my equilibrium and left me feeling inadequate to answer. How did I end up as a clandestine missionary in a communist country? How did I find myself walking the streets of a town a mere ninety-seven kilometers/sixty miles from the Soviet border? How could I have landed in the same location with buildings, photographs, and personal effects from the Nazi concentration camp Majdanek? How screamed at me!

I grew up in a Christian home and became a follower of Christ at an early age. As a young third-grade girl, I believed God wanted me to be a missionary. Yet, for years fear characterized my relationship with God, fear that He would ruin my life and send me to Africa as a missionary.

Then, at university, I met a group of students who had a smile on their face, a song in their heart and a spring in their step. They marched to the beat of a different drum, and I joined their ranks. Our clarion call was, “Come help change the world.” My manifesto before God declared, “Anything, anytime, anywhere.”

Soon after, this cheerleader met and fell in love with a handsome, blue-eyed football player. His proposal was, “Will you go with me in helping to reach the world for Christ?” My “yes” to that question, and the supernatural call of God on our lives, now placed me right here on this unfamiliar piece of earth in eastern Poland.

“Oh, God, please help me. If I am going to survive, You must intervene.” My prayer gushed from an honest, confused, aching heart held out before God.

And God intervened. Deep down, in the depths of my soul, with the power of His Word, God took over. He marched right across communism, right across culture shock, right across my emotional pain, and met me, Debby, with the words of Psalm 139:9-10: “. . . if I settle on the far side of the sea, even there your hand will guide me, your right hand will hold me fast.”

The Holy Spirit threw a lifeline, and I grabbed it, holding on for dear life. In a communist coffee shop, surrounded by a language beyond my comprehension, heaven descended and brought peace to my troubled, broken heart. Just what I needed most, just when I needed it most. God showed up—right then, right there.

In July 1977

In Lublin, Poland

In His Word

“When I was most desperate, He was most dependable. Geography never poses an issue for the presence of God.
“I will never leave you or forsake you”(Hebrews 13:8) is for real.”

— Debby Thompson

On that dark day, I discovered the light of a lesson I will never forget, the lesson that laid the foundation for the 12,045 days of the 33 years to follow: When I was most desperate, He was most dependable. Geography never poses an issue for the presence of God. “I will never leave you or forsake you” (Hebrews 13:8) is for real.

I invite you to read further:

Pulling Back the Iron Curtain: Stories From a Cold War Missionary