God Dwells in Our Making

Check out the first post on creativity here: The Sacred Ordinary of Making

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Many of us carry quiet assumptions about creativity.

That it belongs to other people. That it’s extra. That it needs justification.

We might enjoy making things, but we’re not always sure what to do with that enjoyment—especially when life is full and responsibilities press in.

During our hobby retreat, as women gathered simply to make and rest, I found myself asking again: What does faithful creativity actually look like?

Scripture led me to an unexpected answer—hidden in the wilderness story of Israel, in Exodus 31. 

Arriving in this chapter, Israel is a people who have been radically rescued, but not yet settled. They were enslaved in Egypt for generations, shaped by forced labor, scarcity, and survival. God heard their cries, confronted Pharaoh, sent plagues, and led them out through the Red Sea. They are no longer slaves—but they are also not yet home.

They are in the wilderness.

They live in tents. They’re dependent on daily provision for food and water. They are learning, often slowly and imperfectly, what it means to trust this God who has redeemed them. And it is precisely there—in that in‑between place, between rescue and rest—that God tells Moses He wants to dwell with His people.

God doesn’t wait for them to reach the Promised Land. Instead, He chooses to be present with them right where they are.

So He gives instructions for the tabernacle: a portable dwelling place that will move with Israel through the wilderness. The details are striking—measurements, materials, colors, fabrics, metals, textures. Exodus 25–30 reads almost like a blueprint. God cares deeply about form as well as function, about beauty as well as obedience.

And then, in Exodus 31, God names the people who will carry this work out.

The Lord tells Moses that He has called Bezalel by name. He does not simply assign a task; He appoints a person. And God says that He has filled Bezalel with His Spirit—with wisdom, understanding, knowledge, and skill in all kinds of work: designing, shaping, cutting, carving, crafting. God also appoints Oholiab to work alongside him and stirs ability and skill in many others so that together they can make everything He has commanded.

This matters.

The first people Scripture explicitly describes as being filled with the Spirit of God are not leaders speaking publicly or figures exercising authority. They are gifted makers—people whose faithfulness is expressed through skilled, careful, beautiful work with their hands. This tells us something important about how Scripture understands creativity. Creativity, in Scripture, is not about proving ourselves but about practicing faithfulness—doing our work attentively before God, trusting Him with the outcome.

Their creativity is not a hobby on the side of obedience. It is obedience. It is the means by which God’s dwelling among His people becomes tangible and visible.

And when we look closely, we see that Spirit‑empowered creativity has a particular shape.

First, it’s responsive.

Bezalel and those working with him are not asked to invent their own vision. They respond to God’s revealed word. Their creativity begins with listening—paying attention to what God has said and working within the patterns He has given.

For many of us, especially as women who create with our hands, this looks like honoring the limits God has placed in our lives: the materials we have, the time we’re given, the season we’re in. It looks like creating faithfully rather than resentfully wishing for different circumstances.

Second, Spirit‑empowered creativity is skilled and excellent.

The text emphasizes care, precision, and ability. God doesn’t dismiss craftsmanship as unimportant. He delights in work that is done well.

Practically, this might look like learning a skill patiently—practicing a stitch until it’s right, taking time to measure carefully, undoing work and starting again when necessary, finishing a project with attention even when no one else will see the details.

Third, it’s collaborative and generous.

God does not concentrate this work in one person. He appoints helpers. He gives skill broadly. The work of the tabernacle becomes shared, taught, and multiplied.

To me, that sounds very much like women gathered around tables—passing on techniques, sharing supplies, encouraging one another, learning together. Creativity, here, is not competitive or isolating; it builds community.

This is what dependent creativity looks like.

It’s receiving a calling from God, receiving ability and strength from God, and then offering that work back to Him for the good of others.

The tabernacle was God’s dwelling place among His people then. Now, Scripture tells us that God dwells with His people in an even more intimate way—by His Spirit within us.

Which means Spirit‑empowered creativity did not end in Exodus.

When a woman plans her week prayerfully…

When she sews, paints, writes, builds, or bakes with care…

When she orders her work and responsibilities in ways that reflect God’s goodness and serve others…

that is Bezalel‑work.

That is faithful, Spirit‑empowered creativity—ordinary obedience shaped by God’s presence and offered for His glory and the good of those around us.

From a place of rest and enjoyment, may God gently reshape how we imagine creativity—not as something extra we offer Him, but as one of the ways He teaches us to live faithfully in His presence.