Typically, this blog waxes eloquent on the deeper theological points of faith and the arts. But today, I thought I would just be goofy and share a story about my wife about a dozen years ago.  It is a reminder that we, as artists, should strive toward the greater art—and often, it comes with a price.

In our family, this story is folklore, the kind of tale that has been retold over the dinner table over the course of more than a dozen years.  Or to paraphrase the words of Kung Fu Panda: "Legend tells of a legendary bread maker whose bread making skills were the stuff of legend..."

Day 1: My wife, Debbie, finds a book on baking bread in the bookstore.  She buys it, thinking that she'll save the family money in the long run.  "After all, after a few loaves, it should pay for itself."

One of the ideas I’ve grappled with over the years is, What is Christian art?  I mean, what makes an artistic expression like music or drama or dance uniquely Christian?  What does that term mean anyway?  And I’ve come to the conclusion that it isn’t necessarily anything that has Christian symbolism or religious themes or doves and crosses.  More than anything, Christian art must begin to reflect the overarching story of God, the Meta-Narrative, that our Triune God is in the process of redeeming that which has fallen, that which He had created, that which He loves.

The story of all that is, is the story of God.  He takes His pen in hand to write this story: Creation, Fall, Redemption.  All of history, all of the Bible, all of what was and is and will be, reflects this three act play of Creation, Fall, and Redemption, that God is writing in the universe.

But that’s not all.  He writes this story in our souls as well.  For all of us have our own stories, our own vignettes of how God’s grace has saved us, changes us.  And our stories enter into His larger story of the redemption of the universe.