Called To Create: Why We Still Believe in Making Things

By Scott & Dina Rhoden

Bend, Oregon

The Yellow Bells

We met in a PhD program for creative writing, which is to say: we met in a room full of people who believed that metaphor could save us. Or at least soften the blow. We were both writing poems back then—Dina with her fierce, luminous lines that could hold grief without breaking, and Scott with his songs that always seemed to be half prayer, half punchline.

We were wildly in love—with each other, and with language. We still are.

After Cincinnati, we made a brief stop along the east coast of Florida, where the air was thick with salt and possibility. But it was in Northwest Georgia that we truly put down roots. Our son was four when we moved there. He grew up among pine trees and porch swings, in a house filled with music, books, and the occasional dog hair tumbleweed. He’s grown now, off making his own kind of music in the world.

In Georgia, we founded Compassion House, a social work agency that taught us more about love, loss, and resilience than any textbook ever could. We learned how to write treatment plans and grant proposals. We learned how to sit with people in their worst moments and not flinch. We learned that sometimes the most creative thing you can do is just keep showing up.

And then, somewhere along the way, we started making things again.

Songs. Collages. Poems. Paintings. We started The Yellow Bells as a way to gather all the pieces—our faith, our art, our years in the trenches of social work, our belief that beauty still matters. That it always did.

We live in Bend, Oregon now, where the sky is wide and the coffee is strong. We’re raising a nine-year-old daughter who asks better questions than most adults we know. We have two dogs—Sunny Sweet and Happy Dog—who remind us daily that joy is a tail wag and a warm patch of sun.

We write songs in the morning and make collages in the afternoon. We talk about God a lot—not in the bumper-sticker way, but in the way that artists do, with awe and a thousand metaphors. We believe in the sacredness of making things. We believe that creativity is not a luxury—it’s a calling.

This blog—Called to Create—is our way of inviting you into that conversation.

We’ll write about songwriting and poetry, about faith and failure, about the strange joy of gluing torn paper to canvas and calling it holy. We’ll share behind-the-scenes glimpses of our creative process—the songs that almost made it, the ones that surprised us, the ones that healed something we didn’t know was broken.

We’ll write about what it means to make art in a world that often feels like it’s coming apart at the seams. About how to keep showing up to the page, the piano, the paintbrush, even when the dishes are piled high and the news is too much. About how to stay tender in a world that rewards cynicism. About how to keep believing in beauty, even when it feels like no one’s paying attention.

We’ll write about the God who made galaxies and also made hummingbirds. The God who, we believe, calls each of us to create—not just artists, but everyone. To build something good with our lives. A song. A meal. A safe place. A second chance.

So welcome. Whether you’re a fellow songwriter, a poet, a parent, a pastor, a social worker, or just someone who’s trying to live a little more beautifully in a messy world—we’re glad you’re here.

Let’s make something.