Creative Lenten Practice, Session One: Releasing
As Lent begins, we are invited into the wilderness, not to be emptied for the sake of emptiness, but to make room for God.
Through the prophet in the Book of Joel we hear the invitation: “Return to the Lord your God, for he is gracious and merciful.” Returning often begins with releasing: loosening our grip on what we’ve been holding tightly.
When Jesus Christ speaks of fasting, he describes it as something quiet and hidden, not performative. Fasting can mean setting aside food, but it can also mean releasing habits, expectations, or ways of being that no longer give life.
This simple practice is meant to help you begin Lent gently, by noticing what feels heavy and practicing release with both your heart and your hands.
You can set aside about an hour, or shorten it if needed.
Supplies:
pen/pencil/marker (for journaling)
sheets of paper (for journaling)
cardstock, watercolor paper, canvas, wooden board
Mod Podge (or glue mixed with water)
old paint brush
Step 1: Prepare your body (5 minutes)
Make a cup of tea, coffee, or another warm drink if you’d like.
Sit somewhere comfortable.
Before doing anything else, take a few slow breaths and quiet your body.
You might pray silently:
God, help me notice what I am carrying.
Let the silence be enough.
Step 2: Reflect (5 minutes)
Read slowly:
Lent invites us to return to God.
Returning often begins with releasing.
Tonight, you are not striving to become a better version of yourself.
You are simply noticing what feels heavy, clenched, or crowded.
You might imagine Jesus’ invitation:
“Come to me, all you who are weary and carrying heavy burdens.”
What might you be invited to set down, just for now?
Sit with that for a moment.
Step 3: Journal (15–20 minutes)
Write freely in response to one or more of these questions:
What feels heavy or clenched as I enter Lent?
What am I holding tightly right now?
What might I be invited to fast from, not to punish myself, but to make space?
What feels ready to be loosened, even slightly?
Don’t worry about writing something meaningful or polished, just be honest.
Step 4: Practice Release With Your Hands (15–20 minutes)
Take your journal sheets and slowly tear them into pieces of all different shapes and sizes. Notice the sound and notice your response.
Then take the pieces and glue or tape them onto your heavier paper or canvas to cover the whole page.
You are not trying to make something pretty. You are practicing release with your hands. Let this be prayer.
Step 5: Sit and Wonder (5–10 minutes)
When you’re finished, sit quietly and notice what is present.
You might reflect on one of these:
I wonder what it felt like to write those words.
I wonder what happened inside me as I decided what to tear.
I wonder what the sound of ripping stirred in me.
I wonder what I noticed in my body as I pulled the paper apart.
I wonder what it was like to place the torn pieces down in a new way.
I wonder what God is inviting me to notice in this process?
There is nothing you need to figure out. Just notice.
Step 6: Close
You might end with this simple prayer:
God, receive what I have released.
Hold what I cannot yet let go of.
Make space in me for your life.
Amen.
Allow your piece to dry and keep it for session two, next week.
Creative Prompt: Draw a shape
Then change one side to make it imperfect on purpose.
Choose a simple shape:
a square
a triangle
a circle
a rectangle
Paint or draw most of it slowly on your page (or use this coloring page).
Then finish your shape imperfectly. Make it uneven, crooked, wavy or any other way.
Leave it that way. Resist correcting it. Let the imperfection be visible and intentional.
Wondering Questions
I wonder how it feels to change something on purpose?
I wonder which part of me wants to fix it?
I wonder what “perfect” even means here?
I wonder what becomes possible when something is slightly off?
I wonder if imperfection can be a form of freedom?
Let the questions sit beside you, not demanding answers.
A Kid-Friendly Version
Invite kids to:
Paint a big shape on their paper.
Pick one side and make it silly or wiggly on purpose.
You can wonder together:
Which side did you change?
Does it make your shape more interesting?
What would happen if all the shapes were perfectly straight?
Celebrate the weird side. That’s the brave part.
A Closing Invitation
Sit with your imperfect shape for a moment.
Notice:
Does your eye keep returning to the altered side?
Does it soften over time?
You might carry this gentle wondering into your day:
Where in my life could I allow imperfections and trust that it’s still enough?
If you feel comfortable, I’d love to see what you create. When I share these prompts, I’ll always try to share what I’ve made too. Tag me on Instagram or comment below with a photo or reflection.
Creative Prompt: Tear and Glue
A slow collage prayer
I’ve done a few collage prayers in the past week or so. One was led by fellow a spiritual director and was beautiful and gentle and slow; joining in with her and a few others felt like a gift to myself. In leading that, she helped me make space on a day when I would have struggled on my own. I decided to bring that gift to Sunday school on a day when I led the children in a contemplative exercise — imaginative prayer (more on that sweet time later!) — as a way to respond to the story. And those kids dove in with gusto!
So now I bring that gift to you, trusting that each tear of paper, each stroke of glue, is its own type of wordless prayer. With this practice, I invite you to pray without needing to explain yourself.
Gather a few pieces of paper. They can be:
old magazines
colored paper
scrap paper
junk mail
tissue paper
pages you no longer need
Begin tearing pieces slowly with your hands. Let the edges be uneven. Let the shapes surprise you.
Then begin gluing the pieces down to form any shape, picture, or design you’d like. You can use anything as your background, or download this page.
It doesn’t have to “look like” something and you don’t have to explain what it means.
As you work slowly, you might wonder:
What do I want Jesus to help me with today?
or
What do I want to say to God?
There is no right way to answer. The collage itself can hold the prayer.
Wondering Questions
You might hold one of these quietly while you work:
I wonder what my hands are expressing that my words can’t?
I wonder if God receives this just as fully as spoken prayer?
I wonder what feels torn in me right now?
I wonder what wants to be mended, supported, or strengthened?
I wonder what it feels like to let prayer be imperfect?
Notice what arises. No pressure to resolve it.
A Kid-Friendly Version
Invite children to:
Tear paper into different shapes and sizes.
Glue them down to make a picture or design.
You can gently wonder together:
What would you like Jesus to help you with?
Is there something you want to tell God today?
How does it feel to tear paper instead of cutting it?
Let their answers be simple. Let the art carry what they don’t say.
A Closing Invitation
When you’re finished, sit with your collage for a moment.
Notice:
Where does your eye rest?
Which piece feels most important?
Which one surprised you?
You don’t need to interpret it, just let it be what it is: a prayer made of torn edges and held together with care.
And trust that even this is received with delight.
Practicing the Presence | Prompt 9: An Unexpected Pop of Color
“Look for an unexpected pop of color and capture it.
Let surprise be a doorway to joy.”
Some days feel muted. The sky is gray. The to-do list is long. The rhythm of life feels predictable, even heavy. And then, almost without warning, you notice it:
A bright red mitten on the sidewalk.
A yellow leaf against dull pavement.
A burst of pink in a winter coat crowd.
A bowl of oranges glowing on the counter.
Color has a way of interrupting us.
It doesn’t demand anything. It simply catches our eye and invites us to look again.
What Is “Practicing the Presence”?
Practicing the presence means paying attention to the small moments where God’s goodness breaks into ordinary life.
It’s not about manufacturing happiness. It’s about noticing what’s already there.
An unexpected pop of color can become a reminder that joy is often quiet and unscheduled. It shows up without an announcement. It surprises us. And sometimes surprise is exactly how grace arrives.
Try This
Today, look intentionally for color, especially somewhere you wouldn’t expect it. Pause when you see it. Let yourself enjoy it without rushing past.
If you’d like, take a photo, not for perfection, but as a way of saying, I almost missed this.
Then ask yourself:
What did this small surprise stir in me?
When was the last time I allowed joy to interrupt my day?
Where might God be inviting me to notice beauty more closely?
Joy doesn’t always come through big moments. Sometimes it slips in quietly, bright and unplanned. Look for it. You might be surprised.
Creative Prompt: Paint a Rainbow
I wonder what promise you need to remember?
Rainbows are one of the first symbols many of us learn to recognize. They show up in children’s books and skies after storms, in crayon drawings and old stories passed down through generations.
A rainbow doesn’t erase the storm. It appears afterwards as a reminder. Today’s creative practice invites you to paint a rainbow, not as decoration, but as an act of remembering.
Remembering is a spiritual practice. Not remembering facts but remembering truth when it’s easy to forget. A rainbow reminds us that storms don’t last forever, beauty can follow difficulty, and promises are often quieter than we expect. Sometimes the most faithful thing we can do is look back and say, I’ve seen goodness before.
Paint a rainbow on your page.
It can be:
traditional or unexpected
bold or barely-there
perfectly arched or uneven and wandering
You can paint every color clearly, or let them blend and bleed into one another. There is no correct version.
As you paint, hold this gentle wondering: What promise do you need to remember right now?
Watercolor Option
Lightly sketch an arc if you want or begin directly with paint.
Paint one color at a time, moving slowly across the page.
Allow colors to touch, soften, or blur.
Pause between colors if you need to.
You don’t have to fill the page. A single arc is enough.
Colored Pencil or Crayon Option
Draw a rainbow using crayons or colored pencils, or use this coloring page.
Press firmly in some places and lightly in others.
You can repeat colors, skip some, or invent new ones.
Let your hand choose what comes next.
Wondering Questions
You might hold one or two of these gently while you work or afterward.
I wonder what promises have carried me before?
I wonder which promises feel hard to trust right now?
I wonder what it feels like to remember instead of strive?
I wonder where hope shows up quietly in my life?
I wonder if the promise comes after the storm, not instead of it?
A Kid-Friendly Version
Invite kids to paint or draw a rainbow in any way they like.
You can wonder together:
What do rainbows make you think of?
When do rainbows usually appear?
What is something good you hope for?
You don’t need to explain the promise. Let imagination lead.
A Closing Invitation
When you’re finished, sit with your page for a moment.
Which colors stand out?
Which feel gentle or strong?
You might carry this wondering with you: What promise wants to be remembered today?
Let the rainbow hold it for you even if the answer is still forming.
If you feel comfortable, I’d love to see what you create. When I share these prompts, I’ll always try to share what I’ve made too. Tag me on Instagram or comment below with a photo or reflection.
Invitation: A Creative Way to Walk Through Lent
This year, I’m offering a four-week creative spiritual direction group for Lent for anyone longing to move through the season slowly, honestly, and with care.
We’ll gather once a week and work on one piece of artwork over four sessions, allowing it to change gradually as Lent unfolds. Each week has a simple theme:
Releasing – letting go and making space
Resting – honoring grief, weariness, and lament
Renewing – noticing quiet growth beneath the surface
Rejoicing – receiving words of hope as we look toward Easter
Each session will include:
a short spiritual reflection grounded in Scripture
quiet journaling (private; never shared)
a simple, guided creative practice
generous silence and space for wondering
optional sharing from the experience of making (not explanations or analysis)
You do not need to be an artist or know exactly what you want from Lent.
This is not about producing something beautiful or meaningful, though many people are surprised by how much they love what emerges. It’s about being present and trusting that God is already at work, even in what feels unfinished.
If you’re tired of striving but still want to stay attentive to God…
If you long for a gentle, embodied way to pray…
You are welcome here.
This group is small by design and held with clear guidelines around confidentiality, consent, and care. Sharing is always optional. Silence is honored.
A quick note about logistics
This group will be offered in person, with space intentionally limited so the experience can remain quiet and spacious. The cost for the in-person group is $30, which simply covers all art materials. No need to bring anything with you.
If there is enough interest, I may also offer an online version of the group. The online group would be free, with participants providing their own materials at home.
If you’re interested but unsure which option might work for you, you’re welcome to reach out or add your name to the interest list.
Creative Prompt: Let it Dry
A creative practice for releasing urgency
Urgency has a way of convincing us that everything is immediate, that nothing can wait, that if we pause we might fall behind or miss something important. But today’s practice invites you to notice your relationship with hurry, not to necessarily fix it, but to sit with it, gently, and see what it has to teach you.
Using any kind of paint (watercolor, tempera, acrylic, even finger paint) begin making marks on the page very slowly.
One line.
One shape.
One patch of color.
After each mark, pause and notice the paint as it moves and settles.
Before switching colors, wait for part of the page to dry. You don’t need to wait for it to dry completely, just enough to feel the waiting.
Pay attention to what happens in your body during these pauses. Notice any urge to rush, fix, or move on.
Ways to Work (Optional Structure)
If it helps to have gentle guardrails:
Make only 5–10 marks total
Wait at least 30–60 seconds between colors
Change colors only when the previous one is mostly dry
Breathe slowly while you wait
Let the drying time become part of the practice.
Wondering Questions
You might hold one of these while you paint, or return to them afterward.
I wonder where I feel urgency in my body?
I wonder what I’m afraid might happen if I slow down?
I wonder what it’s like to wait without filling the space?
I wonder what the paint is teaching me about timing?
I wonder if anything important is actually lost by waiting?
If You Don’t Have Paint
You can adapt this with:
this coloring page
markers (waiting before adding another layer)
crayons or oil pastels (slowing your pressure and pace)
collage glue (waiting for pieces to set before adding more)
The key is deliberate slowness and allowing things to settle.
A Kid-Friendly Version
Invite kids to:
Spray or drop some water on a page.
Paint a few slow marks on or near the water.
Stop and watch the paint spread.
Wait until it’s dry before using a new color.
Wonder together:
Was it hard to wait?
What did you do while the paint dried?
What happens when we slow down?
Keep it playful and short. Even a little waiting is enough.
A Closing Invitation
When you’re finished, resist the urge to evaluate the page. It won’t be pretty or something you want to frame. That’s OK.
Instead, just notice: How does your body feel now compared to when you started? What in my life is asking me to dry in its own time?
If you feel comfortable, I’d love to see what you create. When I share these prompts, I’ll always try to share what I’ve made too. Tag me on Instagram or comment below with a photo or reflection.
Practicing the Presence | Prompt 8: Reflections
“Find a reflection in water, glass, or metal and photograph it.
What truth or beauty is being reflected?”
Reflections invite us to slow down. They show us familiar things in unfamiliar ways. We don’t usually look for them, but when we do, they stop us just long enough to notice.
In the spiritual life, reflection works much the same way. It helps us see what’s already there, but from a different angle.
What Is “Practicing the Presence”?
Practicing the presence means learning to notice God in ordinary moments without needing them to be dramatic or profound. It’s paying attention to what is being revealed in the everyday: light, beauty, truth, and sometimes ourselves. Reflections remind us that God’s presence isn’t always obvious or direct. Sometimes it’s only glimpsed.
Try This
Today, look for a reflection. It might be in a puddle, a mirror, a window, a shiny countertop, or the surface of a parked car. When you find one, stop and really look.
Then ask:
What am I seeing reflected here?
What truth or beauty is easy to miss unless I slow down?
What might God be showing me about this moment or about myself?
Reflection doesn’t change what’s there. It simply helps us see it more clearly and often, that clarity is where God meets us.
Creative Prompt: Circles of Color
A practice in noticing difference, wholeness, and belonging
This week I wanted to paint circles. This is mostly because one of my favorite Instagram artists talks about how much she loves circles, and when she’s anxious, she paints circles. They are also easy and pretty. And surprisingly meaningful, with no sharp edges, no clear beginning or end.
Today’s practice invites you to work with circles in a very ordinary way, and to see what they might gently teach you.
On a blank page, trace a bunch of circles in different sizes. You can use cups, jar lids, tape rolls, or freehand them if you like. Let them overlap or crowd one another. Then, color each enclosed space (each “piece” created by overlapping circles) a different color or choose colors slowly, one at a time, as you go.
There’s no picture to make, just shapes and color.
Watercolor Option
This is particularly fun in watercolor because you can watch the colors blend together or watch what new colors they make when they overlap!
Lightly trace your circles in pencil.
Using watercolor, fill each section with a different color or shade.
Some can be bold.
Some can be pale.
You can let colors bleed where they meet (wet on wet), or keep them separate (wet on dry).
Notice how the page changes as it fills.
Pause when it feels complete, not when it feels perfect.
Colored Pencil or Crayon Option
Trace your circles with pencil or marker or use this coloring page.
Choose one color per section, or rotate through a small set of favorites.
You can:
press hard in some places
color lightly in others
leave some sections barely touched
Wondering Questions
You might hold one or two of these gently while you work, or reflect on them afterward.
I wonder what it’s like to see many different colors sharing the same space?
I wonder if every section needs to be the same to belong?
I wonder which colors I’m drawn to and which I avoid?
I wonder how overlapping changes things?
I wonder what this page would say about community, or about me?
A Kid-Friendly Version
Invite kids to:
Trace lots of circles: big ones, tiny ones, silly ones.
Color every little space a different color (or just their favorite colors).
You can wonder together:
Which circle is your favorite?
What happens when circles bump into each other?
How many colors can fit on one page?
There’s no wrong way to do this.
A Closing Invitation
This is a practice of many parts making one page and noticing how boundaries and overlaps both create beauty.
When you’re finished, take a moment to look at the whole page. What would it be like to trust that there is room for all of this?
If you feel comfortable, I’d love to see what you create. When I share these prompts, I’ll always try to share what I’ve made too. Tag me on Instagram or comment below with a photo or reflection.
Creative Prompt: Write One Word with Your Non-Dominant Hand
A practice for loosening perfectionism and making space for wonder
Most of us were taught, early on, how to hold a pencil correctly, write neatly, and color inside the lines. Over time, that training can quietly turn into something heavier: the belief that our work, and sometimes we ourselves, need to look a certain way to be acceptable.
Today’s creative practice invites us to lay that down, just for a few minutes.
Instead of striving for beauty or clarity, we’ll practice receiving.
Instead of control, we’ll practice attention.
Instead of perfection, we’ll practice wonder.
Choose a single, gentle word. Something simple. Something kind.
Some ideas:
rest
light
here
beloved
enough
peace
home
Using your non-dominant hand, write that word slowly on the page, letting it be imperfect. Resist the urge to fix it! When the word is written, add color around the word, not inside it. Let the word remain as it is.
Watercolor Option
Lightly write your chosen word with your non-dominant hand using pencil or pen.
Take watercolor and add soft washes around the letters.
You can let color pool near some letters and fade away from others.
You can use one color or many.
Let the paint respond to the word rather than illustrate it.
When you’re finished, pause before adding anything else. Notice what’s already there.
This is not about making the word pretty; it’s about letting it be.
Colored Pencil or Crayon Option
Write the word with your non-dominant hand, or use this coloring page and the word “beloved”.
Choose one or two colors.
Color the space around the word using light pressure.
If you notice yourself wanting to “clean it up,” slow down instead.
The uneven lines and imperfect letters are part of the practice.
Wondering Questions
You might hold one or two of these gently as you work or return to them afterward.
I wonder how it feels to write without trying to get it right?
I wonder what this word needs from me today?
I wonder if this word feels different when it’s imperfect?
I wonder what happens when I don’t correct myself?
There are no right answers. Let the questions stay open.
A Kid-Friendly Version
Invite kids to:
Pick a word they like (or help them choose one).
Write it with their “other hand” or let them guide your non-dominant hand as you write.
Color around it any way they want.
You can wonder together:
What do you notice about your letters?
Was it hard or funny to use your other hand?
What does this word make you think of?
Celebrate the wobbliness. Laugh if it feels silly. This is part of the gift.
Why This Practice Matters
Using our non-dominant hand interrupts our habits of control and slows us down. It quiets the inner critic that says, This should look better than it does. In that interruption, something else becomes possible.
Wonder. Gentleness. A posture of receiving rather than proving.
Like entering the kingdom as a child, not because we’ve mastered something, but because we’re willing to be small, open, and attentive.
A Closing Invitation
You might place your finished page somewhere you’ll see it later. Not as a reminder of what you should do, but as a witness to what happens when you let go. Sometimes the most faithful thing we can do is stop trying to make things right and simply allow ourselves to be here.
If you feel comfortable, I’d love to see what you create. When I share these prompts, I’ll always try to share what I’ve made too. Tag me on Instagram or comment below with a photo or reflection.
Practicing the Presence | Prompt 7: Stillness in a Busy Place
“Catch a moment of stillness in a busy setting. Pause and hold the presence of peace.”
Most of us assume that stillness only happens when everything else stops. But real life doesn’t usually work that way.
More often, our days are full of voices, movement, responsibility, and pressure. And yet, even there, moments of stillness appear if we’re willing to notice them.
Stillness doesn’t always mean silence. Sometimes it means presence.
What Is “Practicing the Presence”?
Practicing the presence means paying attention to where God already is rather than waiting for ideal conditions. It’s learning to notice God in the middle of ordinary life, even when things feel busy or unsettled. Especially then.
Peace, in this sense, isn’t something we manufacture. It’s something we recognize.
Try This
Today, notice a moment of stillness in the middle of a busy place. It might be brief. It might feel almost insignificant. That’s okay.
When you find it, pause. Take one slow breath. Let yourself be there without fixing, solving, or rushing on.
If you’d like, take a photo, not to capture perfection, but to help you remember that peace can exist alongside movement and noise.
You might ask yourself:
Where did I notice stillness today?
What did it feel like in my body?
How might God be meeting me in this moment?
You don’t have to escape your life to find God’s presence. Sometimes, all that’s needed is a pause right in the middle of it.
Creative Prompt: Paint a Candle
There’s something powerful about painting around the light instead of painting the light itself. This simple practice helps you remember that some things are best shown by making space: rest, presence, God’s nearness, hope.
Today, you’ll paint a candle but the flame stays unpainted. Let the blank space shine.
Step-by-Step (Watercolor)
Start with a light sketch of a candle: a simple rectangle for the candle and a small teardrop shape for the flame.
Do not paint the flame. Leave it completely white, untouched paper.
Paint the candle body in soft, warm colors. Let the paint be loose, imperfect, maybe dripping a little like wax.
Around the flame, add gentle washes of color that grow lighter and lighter as they reach toward the flame.
Imagine the flame pushing the color outward.
Let the white space do the work.
Add optional details once the paint dries (a wick, shadows, edges) or leave it simple and quiet.
This practice becomes a reminder that the most luminous things in our lives often come from the spaces we keep open.
Colored Pencil/Crayon Option
Draw a candle and flame, leaving the flame uncolored, or use this coloring page.
Color the candle in your favorite warm tones.
Around the flame, press lightly with your pencil or crayon.
The closer you get to the flame, the lighter your pressure.
The farther away, the deeper and richer the color.
If you want, outline the flame very gently with a soft yellow pencil, but keep the inside white.
Even with crayons, the uncolored flame becomes the brightest part of the page.
Wondering Questions
I wonder what the unpainted flame makes you think of?
I wonder if there is a space of light in your life right now?
I wonder what the blank space invites you to notice or remember?
I wonder how it feels to not fill something in?
Kid-Friendly Version
Draw or paint a candle: tall, short, silly, colorful, whatever you want but don’t color the flame.
Leave it white, as if the paper itself is glowing.
Then ask:
What do you think the light is for?
What makes you feel bright inside?
Who brings light into your world?
You can even draw little things around the candle that your light helps or warms, like tiny creatures, stars, or cozy objects.
Closing Thought
Leaving the flame unpainted becomes its own kind of prayer, an open space for God to shine, a reminder that not all light is ours to create.
Sometimes the most sacred thing we can do is simply make room for it.
If you feel comfortable, I’d love to see what you create. When I share these prompts, I’ll always try to share what I’ve made too. Tag me on Instagram or comment below with a photo or reflection.
A “Hidden Prayer” Collage: A Creative Spiritual Direction Practice
This past week, I was trying to think of a creative activity for my spiritual direction group. I wanted something that still felt like spiritual direction, with shared silence and listening to God together, while also giving us a way to use our hands. What we ended up doing was such a gentle, beautiful experience that I thought I’d share the process here. You can do this alone or with a group.
This practice allows you to express something true in writing, “release” it into God’s hands by layering over it, and then let something new and beautiful emerge. It holds depth, gentleness, and a bit of contemplative mystery.
Materials Needed
Mixed media or watercolor paper
Pen, pencil, or marker
Tissue paper
Other collage elements (book pages, old music sheets, pretty napkins, wrapping paper, etc.)
1–2 of the following: stickers, metallic markers, gold leaf, washi tape, stamps
Step 1: Begin in Silence and Start Journaling
Give each person a small piece of heavy mixed-media or watercolor paper. Invite them to settle into silence for a moment, and then begin journaling directly on the page whenever they’re ready.
You can offer a few prompts:
What is stirring in me?
Where am I feeling invited?
What am I resisting?
What do I long for from God?
What am I tired of carrying?
Let them know that this writing will be covered, so they can freely write what is real and unedited. This becomes their “hidden prayer” layer.
Step 2: Scripture Reading: 2 Corinthians 4:6–7, 16–18 (NRSV)
“For it is the God who said, ‘Let light shine out of darkness,’
who has shone in our hearts
to give the light of the knowledge of the glory of God
in the face of Jesus Christ.But we have this treasure in clay jars,
so that it may be made clear that this extraordinary power belongs to God
and does not come from us…Even though our outer nature is wasting away,
our inner nature is being renewed day by day…Because we look not at what can be seen
but at what cannot be seen;
for what can be seen is temporary,
but what cannot be seen is eternal.”
Paul reminds us that the most precious things God is doing in us are often unseen, like treasure held in simple clay jars. As we begin adding layers to this page, we are not erasing our words and we are not hiding them from God. We are honoring them, entrusting them to His care. We are letting God hold what is true and allowing Him to continue His gentle, quiet work beneath the surface.
Step 3: Begin Layering
When you’re ready, begin tearing and placing your pieces of tissue paper and collage elements over the journaling. There is no right or wrong way to do this. As you layer, imagine God holding everything underneath, healing, redeeming, comforting, and tending to what you wrote. Let your hands move without overthinking. Choose colors and shapes that feel right for the moment.
Step 4: Add a Symbol of Blessing
Once the layers are dry, add one small element of blessing on top.
This could be:
a metallic mark
a sticker or stamp
a bit of gold leaf
a single brushstroke
a small shape or symbol
Let this represent what God will do, is doing, and has already done.
Step 5: Reflection
Take a moment to look at your finished piece. Gently notice what rises in you.
You might ask:
What surprised me while I was creating?
What did the process feel like in my body?
What part of my finished piece draws me the most? Why?
What might God be whispering through the layers?
Did anything shift inside me as the layers were added?
Hold gratitude for whatever God stirred in you today.
Creative Prompt: Restful Home
Sometimes it’s hard to recognize what feels restful until we slow down long enough to name it. This practice gives you a simple way to do just that. Begin by painting or drawing a house (or use this coloring page). Then fill the house with what brings rest to your body, your mind, your spirit. You can draw, color, paint, or cut shapes out of magazines; or you can just use words.
As you decorate your home, you might notice that rest looks different than you expected. It might look like space. It might look like warmth. It might even look like something playful.
Wondering Questions
I wonder what “rest” looks like for you today?
I wonder which part of your inner house needs rest the most?
I wonder if there’s anything you didn’t expect to fill the way you did?
I wonder where God is offering you rest, even quietly or in small ways?
Kid-Friendly Version
Draw or paint a house, any kind you like! Then fill it with things that help you feel calm and cozy:
a stuffed animal, a warm drink, a favorite book, the beach, a nap, a pet, a blanket, or even just your favorite color.
Your house can be silly or imaginative, like a treehouse, a castle, a mushroom house, as long as you fill it with things that help your body feel relaxed and happy.
When you're done, point to each thing and tell someone what makes it restful for you.
Closing Thought
Rest rarely arrives by accident. Often, we have to notice it, name it, or make space for it on purpose. This little painted house becomes a quiet reminder that rest is not earned, but received. And there is always room, somewhere inside your life, to build a habit of rest.
If you feel comfortable, I’d love to see what you create. When I share these prompts, I’ll always try to share what I’ve made too. Tag me on Instagram or comment below with a photo or reflection.
Practicing the Presence | Prompt 6: Something broken
“Show something that’s been mended: a torn page taped back together, a toy glued in place, a shirt with a patch or a few careful stitches.”
There’s something so ordinary and holy about fixing what’s broken. It’s a small picture of God’s heart. He doesn’t throw things away; He makes them whole again.
What Is “Practicing the Presence”?
Practicing the presence means noticing God right here in the ordinary acts of love and attention. It’s remembering that God is not only present in our strength, but also in our small, tender restorations.
Brother Lawrence found God in the rhythm of daily work like washing dishes, cooking meals, doing what needed to be done with love.
For us, it might be sewing a button, fixing a toy, taping a page back in place.
Try This
Today, look for something that has been repaired. Maybe it’s something you’ve fixed with your own hands. Maybe it’s something that carries signs of love and care, a patched quilt, a scar, a relationship slowly being restored.
Take a photo of that mended place and notice how the repair doesn’t erase the past, it transforms it.
Then ask yourself:
What does restoration look like in my life today?
What has been lovingly repaired, even if it still shows the seams?
Where might God be inviting me to join Him in the quiet work of mending
Maybe you’re in the middle of it, still waiting to be healed, and that’s okay. Even the act of noticing the repair can be a kind of prayer.
Creative Prompt: One Color Meditation
For this week’s creative prompt, we’re staying with just one color.
Choose a color that calls to you today. Maybe it’s one you love or one that surprises you. Gather a few materials in that color: colored pencils, crayons, markers, bits of paper, or paint. Then fill a page with it, or use this coloring page to fill in all the shapes.
You might layer light and dark shades, draw abstract shapes, or color a whole page solidly. There’s no wrong way to do it. The goal isn’t to make something “beautiful”; it’s to notice what happens as you stay with one color.
As you color, breathe deeply. Let the rhythm of your hand slow you down. See if the color feels calm or vibrant, heavy or hopeful. Sometimes color speaks in ways words can’t.
Wondering Questions
Why do you think this color stood out to you today?
What emotions or memories come to mind as you fill the page?
What does this color make you think of in God’s creation?
What would it be like to rest in this color for a while, no rush to move on?
A Note on Contemplative Play
Contemplative play is simply making space for presence. It’s when creating becomes a form of prayer, not through words, but through noticing. In this practice, color becomes your prayer language. You might find your mind quieting or your heart softening as you focus on one simple act of coloring.
Kid-Friendly Option
Invite your child to pick one color, any color!
Ask them:
Why did you choose that color?
What does it remind you of?
Then give them crayons, markers, or paper scraps in that shade and let them fill a page. You can even turn it into a game: “How many things around us can we find in your color?”
It’s a gentle way to slow down together, notice beauty, and rest in simple joy.
If you feel comfortable, I’d love to see what you create. When I share these prompts, I’ll always try to share what I’ve made too. Tag me on Instagram or comment below with a photo or reflection.
Creative Prompt: What Do You See?
Drop watercolor onto wet paper and see what shapes appear — name what you find.
There’s something magical about watching color bloom on wet paper. It moves and spreads in ways you can’t control — like tiny acts of wonder happening right before your eyes.
This kind of play invites us to release control and simply notice.
You don’t have to plan, sketch, or know what you’re making. Just wet your paper with clean water, pick up a brush loaded with color, and let a few drops fall.
Watch them travel. Watch them meet and merge and soften into each other.
Then pause. Tilt your page. Look closely. What do you see?
Maybe a mountain. Or a bird. A doorway. A storm. Or something you can’t name, but it stirs something in you.
This is the quiet invitation of contemplative play: to look again, to name what you notice, and to remember that beauty often arrives unplanned.
Use watercolor paper or thick cardstock.
Wet the surface with clean water (a big brush works best).
Load your brush with color and let a few drops fall onto the wet paper.
Watch how they move. Don’t force them.
When the paint settles, pause and notice what shapes you see.
If you’d like, outline or add details to what you discover — or simply leave it as it is.
No Paint? Try This Instead
If you’re using colored pencils or crayons, download the coloring page and color in random shapes or overlapping patches. Let them meet and blend naturally. Then step back and look for what might be hiding in your drawing. You can outline what you find or add gentle shading around it to make it stand out.
You’ll be surprised how often your hand knows what it’s doing long before your mind does.
Wondering Questions
I wonder what happens when you let the paint move on its own?
I wonder what you’ll see when you look slowly?
I wonder how it feels to notice something appear that you didn’t plan?
I wonder if God ever works this way in our lives, letting something take shape we couldn’t have drawn ourselves?
Kid-Friendly Version
Grab your paints (or crayons if you like).
Wet your paper a little, then drop color onto it. Watch how the colors spread and mix, they’ll make surprises all on their own!
When it dries a bit, look closely. What do you see hiding in your paint? A fish? A cloud? A dragon? A slice of pizza? (You never know!) You can outline what you find or make up a story about it.
This kind of art doesn’t have to be anything; it’s about seeing what shows up.
If you feel comfortable, I’d love to see what you create. When I share these prompts, I’ll always try to share what I’ve made too. Tag me on Instagram or comment below with a photo or reflection.
Practicing the Presence | Prompt 5: A Mess
“Capture a mess: crumbs, art supplies, or an unmade bed.”
Sometimes the mess is the most honest part of our day: the pile of laundry that hasn’t been folded, the sink that refuses to stay empty, the table covered with crayons, half-finished projects, and yesterday’s crumbs.
We’re so quick to clean, to hide, to smooth things over before anyone sees. But what if, just for a moment, you didn’t? What if you looked at the mess and asked, “Could God be here, too?”
Because the truth is, the mess tells a story. It is evidence of our humanness, and of God’s presence in it.
What Is “Practicing the Presence”?
Practicing the presence means learning to notice God right where you are, finding grace in the middle of what’s real.
Brother Lawrence, the monk who gave us this phrase, found God while scrubbing pots and cleaning floors. He wrote that the kitchen, filled with clatter and noise, became as holy to him as the chapel.
Holiness, it turns out, is not about neatness. It’s about nearness.
Try This
Look around today.
What is beautifully, honestly messy in your space?
The breakfast dishes? The paint-smeared table? The pile of laundry that means you have clothes to wear and people to care for?
Pause before you tidy up. Take a photo to remember that God dwells even here.
Ask yourself:
What does this mess say about the life happening here?
What might God want to show me through it?
How can I see grace, not guilt, when things aren’t tidy?
The mess isn’t failure. It’s evidence of love, movement, and the ongoing story of a God who meets us in the middle of it all.