Creator and Creation

On an evening walk with my mom, in the midst of December, strolling through jolly neighborhoods with their colorful and warm Christmas lights, my mom asked me what my favorite season was.

It was hard not to say winter, with all the merry music, snowmen, inviting fireplaces, and lightly dusted sugar cookies. But the words that tumbled from my mouth were, “My favorite season is autumn. I love October, specifically.” 

She remained silent for a bit.

My answer, no doubt, surprised her.

Especially amongst the beautiful homes immaculately decorated, mirroring that of a Hallmark movie.

I fumbled to explain myself.

I felt a bit foolish after hearing the words come out of my own mouth, and my explanation did not help my case. My cheeks turned pink with embarrassment, but I hoped she thought it was merely the cool breeze as we walked. I stumbled over my words, trying to articulate what the month of October meant to me. 

In a poorly articulated manner, I explained to my mom that I loved October and autumn because that was the time of year when more people were accepting of the misunderstood. 

And I want to clarify this: People are more accepting of the uglier parts of themselves, the misunderstood parts, the insecure parts, the anxious parts, the times when they fall short, not the intentionally and consciously evil parts.

I’m not even sure she understood.

And I can’t blame her. 

My explanation was mediocre at best. 

I’m sure a lot of us have struggled with accepting how God made us; coming to terms with the fact that we are the way we are.

Oftentimes, the “uglier” parts of ourselves overshadow the great parts. 

Yet, I have found that the month of October makes that bitter truth seem a little better. 

Because people love the unlovable during October. 

From a Christian standpoint, it’s hard for some people to understand how others can celebrate a demonic, pagan practice. But, to their credit, Halloween has moved away from its origins and is now a mostly innocent opportunity to dress up and eat a lot of chocolate bars. 

As an avid reader, and having read many tales that have provided some comfort or insight into these ideas, I would like to call one particular Halloween-themed read to light. 

In my junior year of college, I had the opportunity to read Frankenstein by Mary Shelley.

Astounded by how much the daemon Dr. Frankenstein brings to life spoke to me, I spent many days reviewing Shelley’s work in my mind. Quotes such as …

 “If the multitude of mankind knew of my existence, they would do as you do, and arm themselves for my destruction,” and others such as, “When I looked around I saw and heard of none like me. Was I, then, a monster, a blot upon the earth, from which all men fled and whom all men disowned?” 

… came to the forefront of my mind.

Even my professor remarked how most readers of Shelley’s work find themselves more in tune with the daemon than with Dr. Frankenstein. The monster was a reflection of all their insecurities, and it certainly felt like a mirror to my own at this particular time in my life. 

Yet, the most moving moment of the novel, in my humble opinion, falls when the monster is lamenting to Frankenstein that they are both monsters, grieving, 

“It is true, we shall be monsters, cut off from all the world; but on that account we shall be more attached to one another.” 

They found comfort, even for only a few seconds, in each other’s misgivings, insecurities, mistakes, and past sins. 

Because they realized they were one and the same.

I will not spoil the ending of Shelley’s novel for you, however.

This particular tale, you have to read for yourself. 

But what is it about Frankenstein and the monster that has spoken volumes to generations? 

In my opinion, it is this: there is a very thin line between the monster and the man, and they tread it very carefully, very loosely, and very closely. What is seen as a monster is not always a monster, and what is seen as a man is not always a man. 

The mistake is made when we view them as separate from one another; when they are really mirror images of each other – creator and creation.

If one came from the other, how could they not be similar? How could they not contain the same insecurities, misgivings, and flaws?

The same is true between us and our Creator. 

Psalms 139: 13-14 comes to mind:

“For you created my inmost being; you knit me together in my mother’s womb. I praise you because I am fearfully and wonderfully made; your works are wonderful, I know that full well.” 

Creator and creation. 

Fearfully and wonderfully made. 

His works are wonderful. 

We are not the reincarnation of Dr. Frankenstein and the daemon. 

We are God’s most beloved creation. 

Made in His image. 

Taking after Him in more ways than one. 

For, I sincerely believe everyone is born with a heart that hopes to do good, to be good (Ephesians 4:10). 

There will be times when we feel like Frankenstein’s monster, but we must remind ourselves of our Creator, of who we take after. 

For “He did not give us a spirit of fear, but of power, of love, and of sound mind” (2 Timothy 1:7). 

We strive, or hopefully strive, to be more and more like Jesus every day; taking after our Creator, and reflecting the best parts of Him to others.

Because when people meet us, they should meet Jesus.