“In the first weeks after the death of my daughter,” Lisa told me, “I couldn’t even look at my sewing machine or my quilts or any of the creative things I’d always loved.”
“There didn’t seem to be any point,” she continued, “what was the use of my silly projects in this life where you can’t take anything with you.”
“But one day my sweet husband said to me, “Maybe your quilts will help you heal. Maybe you can use your talents to help others heal?”
With great trepidation, Lisa opened her daughter’s closet and began cutting up designer jeans to make a quilt in honor of Jocelyn (or Jocie or Jiggy), Lisa’s vivacious, red-haired girl who died in a ski accident at just fifteen. That first quilt was given to Jocie’s best friend and the creation of it was so healing that Lisa began working on another and then another. Soon she was creating quilts for other families who had lost children. “As Saints,” Lisa said, “we are often told, ‘If you’re sad, just pull up your bootstraps and go out and serve someone else.’ I was too fragile to help at a women’s shelter or even join a sewing circle. But, I could stitch quilts and send a bit of love out to others who were hurting.”
As Lisa emerged from the initial fog of of grief she found that she wanted to record every moment of her family life– she wanted to capture each freckle on her son’s nose, her daughter’s favorite red cowboy boots, Christmas vacation at the beach. Focusing through her camera lens, she saw that although her life wasn’t the one she had imagined, it was still beautiful, vibrant and hopeful.
Inspired by Lisa’s quilting and photography, her husband Dean began nurturing backyard beehives. He planted great clumps of lavender to tempt the tiny harvesters and taught himself the science of apiculture. Soon, he was bottling sweet jars of honey for friends; this fall he transformed leftover beeswax into “Jiggy Sticks”– premium lipbalms in luscious scents such as Coconut Lime, Vanilla Mint, Lemongrass, and Mountain Snow– all in honor of his girl.
Lisa created a blog to record the happiness in her new life. Like most bloggers, she questions why she spends so much time writing and posting photographs– but she’s found that it cheers her to scroll through the events of the year and to see that although she misses her daughter every day, her family is richly blessed.
Creativity and it’s power to heal resides in each of us- we each have different time, talent and financial constraints (I realize I set a pretty high standard by using Dean and Lisa as examples)– but with a bit of soul searching, everyone can find a healing art. Our own Kellie/Selwyn began writing a blog as a way to heal from her divorce, Melissa Dalton-Bradford blessed all of us in her grief with soul-wrenching poetry, and my friend Zalia dedicated herself to fitness after the death of her baby boy– determined to create a healthy mother for her future children.
Last year, my sister and I suffered a heartbreaking betrayal. Rather than making a New Year’s resolutions we determined to write a screenplay. As we’ve sketched the outline for our fluffy romantic comedy we’ve giggled and swooned at plot twists and especially fabulous dialogue. Instead of talking endlessly about ‘the big hurt’ we discuss what Freddy would say to April and how to round out Rosy’s character.
As we’ve worked we’ve been astonished at the lightness we feel. The Spirit attends us as we work on our admittedly, silly movie. And I am in awe of this healing power the Lord has offered to each of us; a reflection of His likeness, the Creator of All.
How has creativity helped you in times of sorrow?
Have you seen others healed by creative pursuits?
Why do you think creativity is so powerful?
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