I suppose there’s some truth to that, if the creativity is a blatant attempt to improve upon God’s handiwork. (Good luck with that, by the way.)
Or to invalidate God’s authority, like the serpent in his conversation with Eve the garden. That might be what he said, but what he really meant was… (As if God’s commands aren’t clear and we need a snake to interpret?)
On the other hand: a child will naturally copy his parents. Whether it’s eating with a spoon or hammering a nail or driving a car—or mimicking our less attractive attributes—our children will observe and imitate.
Not even the pushiest mom expects her first-year piano student to master a Bach fugue. We don’t insist our eight-year-old shoot free throws like his old man. But few things warm our parental hearts more than seeing our children loving what we love, doing what we do, striving for what we strive for.
Isn’t that a reflection of the Father’s love? When, moved by the glory of a sunrise, we run to get our easel and oils, the result can never rival the grandeur of the original; but I doubt God sees it as rebellion. When we strum chords to accompany the song in our hearts, or sand a tabletop to release the wood’s beauty, or write a story that echoes His, I expect He’d call that the sincerest form of flattery.
He might even call it worship.
Our God has given us some pretty cool gifts. Why wouldn’t He want us to play with them? We have senses for observing, minds for contemplating, imaginations for creating. Why wouldn’t our Father want us to dump them out and scatter them around and see how they fit together?
When I became discouraged with writing in 2006, I made up my mind to quit. Then one of our pastors mentioned a book he was reading that moved him. He commented that, although it was the mere writing of man, not Spirit-inspired scripture, God used it to strengthen his faith. I doubt if anyone else in the church remembers him saying this, but his next words still echo in my mind: If God made you a writer, please write.
God made me a writer. If I didn’t use this creative gift, wouldn’t that be an act of rebellion?