A good gauge of whether we’re pursuing our creativity from our own strength or with God is whether we’re mostly expectant…or exhausted.

We’ve talked a lot about our creativity. But there’s an aspect of it that deserves more attention—creative exhaustion.

Comparison is toxic.

When we compare our achievements or pursuits to others or even to us in another season, it either deflates our hearts (mine isn’t as good) or inflates our ego (mine is best).

Isolation is one of the main areas we can get stuck. So I want to offer a few more thoughts before moving on to the next category.

In Genesis 1, we see the Creator in his glory. So much happens in these first six movements of creation. The first thing to note is that God didn’t create alone.

-An exclusive excerpt from Allen’s new book-

Madeleine L’Engle said, “To create a work of art, great or small, is work, hard work, and work requires discipline and order.”

In our excitement to make things happen, we can futurecast. That’s defined as the practice of envisioning and forecasting potential future scenarios to inform today’s decisions.

When the world closes in around us, it’s easy to go into survival mode. We tighten our grip to control what we can because the rest of life feels so out of control.

What begins as a sense of scarcity rarely stays there. A perceived lack of time, money, or resources doesn’t stay static.

Do you primarily see your life through a lens of scarcity or abundance?

Whether you focus on lack or provision, it will feel true.

Imagine creating something with God that is beyond your wildest dreams. You can’t wait to show others. To launch it. To watch it accelerate as the world discovers it.

A better question than “What are you creating?” is “Why are you creating?” What we create focuses on output. But why we create cuts deeper. It reveals motive.

Superman was my favorite boyhood superhero. He still is.

The Man of Steel is invincible to everything except for one thing. His weakness is a glowing green substance known as Kryptonite.

Our stuck places can feel like a desert we can’t escape that leaves us lost, parched, and isolated. Jesus comes for us in these moments, not to give us just water, but living water.

When something is off with our creativity, it’s hard to know what to do.

It’s the same feeling we get when something’s off with our vehicles.

We’re about to explore the main ways we get stuck and why certain categories seem to derail us more than others.

Before we go there, I want to offer another consideration. Staying in the same place isn’t the same as being stuck.

It’s also not good to cover up our stuck places. Even with the best of intentions, doing so makes us—and our plans—unreliable, slippery, and unproductive.

It’s not good to get used to our stuck places. But that can happen when we live with them for so long we no longer notice their effect or cost.

We love it when things progress without a hitch. Or a glitch. We love smooth sailing in calm water with the wind at our back.

One of my dad’s go-to expressions when facing what he sensed was inevitable was “It is what it is.” I love my dad...and I hate that phrase. The words convey a sense of insurmountable inevitability.