We merely re-create what He first created.
We’re the little guardians of his earth.
I like that thought.
If all credit of the created world had been given to us, we’d be so bloated up with pride we’d next have our commonest senses and empathy all blotted out, the inability to cope with inabilities, constantly consumed with drives to take over entirely the control of the world, and our minds would be incapacitated with ego-centric thinking and selfish living.
We probably wouldn’t survive very long anywhere.
Unless we admit that we are limited. That there is someone out there who’s taking care of the bigger things. That we needn’t worry about what comes next because we simply can’t do anything about it anyway. We need to entrust the true title of creator and author to Him, the God of the universe. Then we can rest easy and enjoy life.
“Creation, as applied to human authorship seems to me to be an entirely misleading term. We re-arrange elements He has provided. There is not a vestige of real creativity de novo in us. Try to imagine a new primary colour, a third gender, a fourth dimension.” – Letters to Malcolm, C.S Lewis
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