Can We Remember This–Can We Believe?

“We are God’s work of art, created in. Christ Jesus for the good works which God has already designated to make up our way of life.”

Ephesians 2, 10



When I write–whether poetry, fiction or even these blog posts–I find myself lost in the process. The same happens when I engage in painting, photography or any sort of creative effort. The most powerful thing occurs when I go back, for example, to a poem or the novel that I’m in the process of publishing and can’t even remember having written the words I discover. Art takes us outside of ourselves.

Is that what it’s like for God when the work of the Holy Spirit takes hold of us, when grace enters in and fashions us into a Masterpiece in God’s own image? Have you ever asked yourself, “How did I get here? Who did this for me, in spite of myself?”

Thank you, Divine Artisan.


The day wind felled a weary oak,

we donned old clothes and boots,

took pails and spades in hand.

We ventured out into the brumy cold

to scoop red clay, harvesting Earth.

That night we sat around a fire.

Faltering flames dispelled the cold

that seeped through dense stone walls—

walls caching sacred secrets of a century, or more.

We worked the clay for days,

extracting grit and stones—

Earth’s grainy cells

that would, ignored, destroy

our own creative efforts.

Tediously, we toiled for perfection.

And when the day arrived to mold

and fashion terra cotta worlds,

figures formed of toil and imagination,

We discarded clods of mud

still clinging to our hands.

Yet now and then we’d find a pebble.

Copyright: Victoria Slotto, 2011

(This poem is an account of an experience I had while living in France in the early 70’s.)

5 thoughts on “Can We Remember This–Can We Believe?

  1. Rallentanda says:

    I think it is the Holy Spirit that enters us when we create things of beauty.It is God’s gift to the creative artist and has an important purpose in the scheme of things. Conversely a powerful Prince of Darkness can enter the creative process as well . Music (without words)is the purest art form because it is impossible to contaminate .


  2. Rallentanda says:

    Christianity with a twist.Now that’s an interesting concept:) Religious discussions are a potential mine field even within the same sect. I met my only blogging friend on a Christian site which can get very heated at times and it is quite understandable to me now how the 100 years took place:)

    We are both Catholics but on a few issues will never agree. However we are still friends in spite of that and I have learned a lot from him , and how a religious background has fashioned the way I think and am (something I was quite unconscious of before) so I continue to look forward to learn from your jottings and thoughts on temporal and spiritual matters.


  3. wolfsrosebud says:

    it’s the unfolding of sanctification God must smile on… oh, that pebble.


  4. I have to admit to having that experience of looking at things I have written and asking myself the same questions, did I really right that and sometimes thinking, what was I thinking?
    The whole question of life and purpose does oftenpuzzle me. I do ask that question why have I been able to live this long, which is not that long but I have had friends die much younger than me and why am I still here when for example my mother died aged 57 some 30+ years ago when I have the same physical issues she did.
    I think we have a purpose in this world, we contribute in so many different ways to the world around us. I am here to be me and to be me to my children all of whom are now grown and are their own people but who call me often and still want to confide in me when the time is right.
    So yes Victoria in spite of myself and my body’s deterioration with age I am still here and doing what I can to be me.

    Liked by 1 person

    • I experience the same things. I have had health challenges throughout my life, a kidney transplant. My entire family (except my 94 year old Mom) were never sick and didn’t quite understand me and what I couldn’t do. Now they are all gone and here I am–still unfolding God’s work of art. Thank you for the thought-full comment, Michael.


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