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.
Creative Prompt: Layered Paper Landscape
You don’t need to know how to paint a realistic tree or draw the perfect horizon line. This process is about playing with color, texture, and layers, like building a patchwork quilt out of paper.
You’ll need:
A base paper (any size you like)
Scraps of paper (magazines, junk mail, tissue paper, old drawings, or painted paper)
Scissors (or just tear the paper for rough edges)
Glue stick or liquid glue
Steps:
Pick your horizon. Decide where the sky meets the land on your paper. Lightly sketch a line if you want, or just eyeball it.
Start with the sky. Tear or cut strips of blue, purple, orange, or whatever colors you imagine. Layer them from top to horizon, overlapping a little to create depth.
Add land in layers. Use strips or shapes of green, brown, gold, or patterned paper for hills, fields, or forests. Overlap so the pieces create a sense of distance (lighter colors in back, darker in front works well).
Play with details. Add a sun, moon, tree silhouettes, or even a house, just shapes, no detail required.
Step back and notice. It doesn’t need to look “real.” Let the textures and colors suggest a place where you’d like to rest or wander.
Wondering Questions:
What kind of landscape emerged from your layers?
Does it remind you of a real place, or an imagined one?
What might God be showing you through this “land” you created?
Kid-Friendly Option:
Give your child scraps of paper and invite them to build their own “land.” You can prompt with fun questions: What does your sky look like today? What kind of trees or animals live in your land? Let them collage freely, kids are natural at 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: Scribbles
When we make “ugly art,” we let go of striving. We release the pressure to make something polished or impressive, and instead open ourselves to receive whatever comes. Scribbles are a perfect place to begin.
Children already know this. They don’t need a reason to scribble; they simply put crayon to paper and enjoy the movement, the colors, the lines colliding and looping across the page. No rules. No striving. Just joy.
Today’s invitation is to make scribbles.
That’s it. No plan, no picture in mind, no outcome to aim for. Simply enter like a child, moving your hand freely across the page. Let the marks overlap, tangle, and surprise you.
When you’re finished, pause and ask what did you receive in the making? Peace? Release? Laughter? Maybe nothing more than the reminder that you are free to begin again.
Wondering Questions
I wonder what it feels like to scribble without striving?
I wonder what you might receive when you let the lines be messy?
I wonder where else you might loosen your control, and allow it to be a little more messy?
I wonder how God delights in you when you enter play like a child?
Kid-Friendly Version
Grab your markers, crayons, or pencils and just scribble! Make big loops, tiny wiggles, zigzags, or swirls. Try using as many colors as you can.
Then look closely at your scribbles. Do you see any hidden shapes, animals, or silly faces? How do your scribbles make you feel?
Closing Thought
Scribbles remind us that creativity is not about control, but about receiving. It’s not about proving, but about playing. Like children, we can let go of striving and enter the freedom of simply making marks on a page and trust that God meets us there.
Practicing the Presence | Prompt 4: Open Windows and Doorways
Find and photograph an open window or doorway.
Today, notice an open window or doorway. Pause for just a moment before you move on.
What is this open space inviting you to?
What does it stir in your heart: rest, curiosity, longing, courage?
Where might God be saying, “Come in. Step through. Trust me here.”
If you’d like, take a photo. Not necessarily for show, but as a way to slow down and remember. If you do decide to share, tag your photo with #PracticingPresence so we can walk in His presence together.
What Is “Practicing the Presence”?
Practicing the presence means pausing to notice God not only in church or prayer but in the ordinary details of life. It’s not about chasing after God. It’s about remembering God is already here, in the simplest of things.
Making Space: Wordless Prayer
I’ve been taking a little longer with making space this month. September has felt like the right time to pause hereand notice what needs to be cleared away and what needs to be held close. Maybe it’s just me, but there’s something about the changing season that makes me want to breathe deeper and make room for God in new ways.
So here’s a simple practice to try:
Sit quietly for a minute with your hands open in front of you, palms up.
In one hand, imagine placing everything hard, sad, or scary that you’re carrying. Picture loading that hand up with anything heavy on your heart.
In the other hand, imagine holding everything you love—anything beautiful, fun, silly, or sacred that brings joy.
Then slowly lift your hands up, offering them to God.
You don’t even need words. The gesture itself becomes a prayer, an embodied way of saying: “I can’t hold all of this on my own. Please carry it for me.” and “Thank You for all this beauty and for being a God who gives good gifts.”
Sometimes, making space means letting go of so many words and simply being with God in a quieter way.
Try It with Kids
This hand-prayer works beautifully with children, too. You can guide them like this:
Hold out both hands in front of you, palms up.
In one hand, pretend to put anything that makes you feel sad, worried, or scared. You can “drop” it in your hand like a stone.
In the other hand, pretend to put things you love: something beautiful, fun, or silly that makes you happy. You can “pick up” these good things and place them in your hand like treasures.
After a moment, lift up both hands together. Tell God, “Here are the hard things. Please hold them for me. Here are the good things. Thank You for giving them to me.”
If children don’t want to use words, that’s okay. The simple action of lifting their hands is a prayer all by itself.
Learning to See Through God’s Eyes
Several years ago, I chose three words to shape the way I wanted to see the world: beauty, freedom, and abundance. They’re still words I come back to often. I don’t always live them out perfectly, but they continue to be a guide for me, a way of framing how I want to look at my life, my relationships, and the world around me.
The truth is, I don’t always see through that frame naturally. Most days I need the reminder to slow down, make space, and ask God to help me see differently. Left to myself, I get distracted, or I focus on what feels heavy or frustrating. But when I pause and pray, even a simple, quiet “Lord, help me see what You see”, it opens my eyes to what’s already there.
Scripture reminds us that God is the source of all three:
“One thing I ask from the Lord… to gaze on the beauty of the Lord and to seek him in his temple.” (Psalm 27:4)
“It is for freedom that Christ has set us free.” (Galatians 5:1)
“I came that they may have life and have it abundantly.” (John 10:10)
Making space for this kind of noticing doesn’t have to be complicated. It can be as simple as:
Looking out the window for a few minutes and asking, Where is the beauty here?
Taking a walk and asking, What freedom is God inviting me into today?
Sitting at the table and asking, What abundance am I overlooking today?
A Making Space Practice
This week, take five minutes each day to pause and ask God to show you beauty, freedom, and abundance in an ordinary place. Write down what you notice, or share it with someone else. Over time, these small moments of noticing can gently shift the way we see our lives and help us point others toward the goodness of God at work all around us.