The Struggle to Be Known

“The Struggle to be Known” – A 10-chapter devotional series for creatives and those who want to be more creative.

Psalm 139:4-6

4 Before a word is on my tongue
   you, Lord, know it completely.
5 You hem me in behind and before,
   and you lay your hand upon me.
6 Such knowledge is too wonderful for me,
   too lofty for me to attain.

God’s knowledge of us is beyond comprehension. With His mighty hand, He reaches down not to intimidate, but to draw near and comfort.

Understanding that you are “fully” known and loved should bring joy and peace to your heart. But, it’s essential to allow this awareness to saturate your soul. That’s why a vibrant prayer life is vital. It’s in stillness and prayer we begin to feel His touch – the gentle pressure of His presence shaping our thoughts, guiding our words, and inspiring our art.

Highly creative people are often among the most wounded. Their longing to express rises from pain or inner turmoil — the heart’s attempt to make sense of what feels too deep for words. Yet even here, God’s hand is present. From the moment we were formed, His touch has been upon us. Likewise, from the inception of our creative act, He is near, breathing life into our ideas, giving shape to our words, and bringing artistry from our wounds.

As the psalm declares, He knows our words even before they form in our minds. God is timeless. What an image for the creative life: before the artist sketches, before the poet writes, before the composer’s mind conceives a single note — God already beholds the work in its fullness. We create within time, but He creates outside of it. It’s also important to note, He is not passive but participatory — He joins us in the process. And when we create, we echo His touch. We join the sacred rhythm that began when His hand first moved over the formless deep and light broke forth. To be “touched by the Creator” is not only to be known and comforted, but to be awakened — to become a vessel through which His creative Spirit moves.

Wounded Artist: Scholars throughout the ages have made the connection between trauma and creativity — not because trauma is required to create, but because woundedness can open deeper wells of empathy, vision, and truth. As German Psychologist Erich Neumann explained, “His wounds remain open — but from the depths of that suffering another curative power arises, which is the creative process.” For the Christian artist, such woundedness can become part of the canvas upon which grace paints redemption.

I’ve always been fascinated by recording — since I was about six, when my parents gifted me a reel-to-reel tape recorder with a large silver lavaliere microphone. Not a normal gift for a child, but a brilliant one for me! That little machine was pure magic. I’d sit for hours, speaking and singing into it, amazed that I could capture sound — that something invisible could be made permanent.

A few months before my sister passed away from a rare form of cancer, as she began to grow increasingly isolated at home, I started recording the hymn “Softly and Tenderly” in my home studio, a studio which has grown from that antique reel-to-reel recorder. There was something comforting about the melody, something very familiar and yet full of longing. It gave my soul a much-needed respite as I worked on it alone in the studio.

As my sister grew weaker, she eventually asked me to come to her bedside to talk about her funeral. She wanted me to find a recording to be played — something peaceful, something that would allow people to simply listen and be present. She didn’t want anyone to have the burden of singing live. I promised her I would find something fitting, and instantly, that hymn came to mind.

In the final days before she passed, she spoke often of “going home.” The phrase echoed softly through her house and my mind. “I just want to go home,” she said. The words of the hymn — “Come home, come home, ye who are weary, come home” — took on a deeper meaning. Her song became mine, and I realized that every creative act – even those born in sorrow – is a collaboration with the One who will call us all home.

I’ve seen this pattern many times in creative work. I begin a project without a full understanding of its purpose. An idea comes, a melody forms, a counter melody line appears — and only later do I realize how perfectly it fits into God’s design. Long before the song reaches our lips, He already knows it. He guides our hands, our hearts, our timing. What we think we’re creating for one reason often becomes the vessel for something far different, something greater.

There are moments when we glimpse how closely the Creator walks with us — not ahead, not behind, but actually within our steps. The words we speak, the songs we sing, the art we make — all are part of His intimate knowing. When we see this, even briefly, it humbles us. It reminds us that our creativity is not just a reflection of who we are, but of who He is — the One who speaks meaning into every note and every breath.

PROBING DEEPER: Do you remember a time when you were aware of God’s touch? Do you feel like you are a part of God’s intimacy? Do you feel that the amount of time you spend in reflection and prayer is adequate?

TODAY’S PRAYER: Creator God, thank you for your loving touch, that’s always upon our lives, and for the peace your presence brings. And thank you for the wounds which have brought a deeper understanding of suffering … and have spurred us toward creativity. Inspire us to share the gift of your presence with those we interact with today.