sacred story time (changing your mind)
Last time, Pooh began his plan to get the honey from the bees, but there was a problem. This week, Pooh decides he’s had enough.
As we read this week’s passage, I hope you’ll take some time to wonder about what happens when we are wrong about something and how it feels to admit that, especially to the people around us. Come play, pray, and wonder with me.
"Christopher—ow!—Robin," called out the cloud.
"Yes?"
"I have just been thinking, and I have come to a very important decision. These are the wrong sort of bees."
"Are they?"
"Quite the wrong sort. So I should think they would make the wrong sort of honey, shouldn't you?"
"Would they?"
"Yes. So I think I shall come down."
"How?" asked Christopher Robin.
Winnie-the-Pooh hadn't thought about this. If he let go of the string, he would fall—bump—and he didn't like the idea of that. So he thought for a long time, and then he said:
"Christopher Robin, you must shoot the balloon with your toy gun. Have you got it with you?"
"I do," Christopher Robin said. "But if I do that, it will spoil the balloon.”
"But if you don't," said Pooh, "I shall have to let go, and that would spoil me."
When he put it like this, Christopher Robin saw how it was, and aimed very carefully at the balloon, and fired.
"Ow!" said Pooh.
"Did I miss?" Christopher Robin asked.
"You didn't exactly miss," said Pooh, "but you missed the balloon."
"I'm so sorry," Christopher Robin said, and tried again, and this time he hit the balloon, and the air came slowly out, and Winnie-the-Pooh floated down to the ground.
But his arms were so stiff from holding on to the string of the balloon all that time that they stayed up straight in the air for more than a week, and whenever a fly came and settled on his nose he had to blow it off. And I think—but I am not sure—that that is why he was always called Pooh.
Noticing Prompt
When was the last time you were wrong about something? Or changed your mind about something you used to believe? How did that make you feel? How did it make the people around you feel? Do you find it hard to admit when you are wrong? If so, why?
Play Prompt
Draw a face on an empty balloon and then blow it up to different sizes. Watch how the face changes! Then let the balloon go and watch it zoom around! How far can you get it to travel?
Imagination Prompt
If you could give yourself any name, what would it be and why?
Prayer
Unchanging God, keep my mind on you and your ways. Let me not be easily offended or always think I know what is best. Help me walk the path of humility.
Download a PDF of this content for a Winnie-the-Pooh coloring page!
Our Sons and Daughters
As we sang Pass the Promise in church a few weeks ago, one line caught me in a new way: “our sons and daughters.”
I found myself thinking: what if that means all of our sons and daughters? Not just our own children, but every child in our church family. The kids sitting a few pews over, the ones running around at the back during the service. They belong to all of us.
Every time we gather for worship, we bear witness to them. Our presence, our singing, praying, listening, and showing up week after week tells them something about what we believe.
I told my daughter recently how grateful I am that she is surrounded by people who have already counted the cost of following Jesus and decided it’s worth it. What a gift that is! To grow up in a community filled with living testimonies of faith.
And that’s really what we’re doing every Sunday, passing the promise. Not through perfect words or elaborate lessons, but through the quiet consistency of a life rooted in worship and wonder.
This is part of what I mean when I talk about contemplative play: paying attention to God’s presence in ordinary things, and letting our lives invite others (especially children) to do the same. Church is one of the few places where kids regularly see adults singing, praying, and wondering together and that is formational, for children and adults.
So every Sunday, when we come to church, we’re not just attending a service. We’re quietly showing our sons and daughters, and one another, that we believe this is true. That we have found Jesus worth following.
They’re watching. And our presence bears witness.
Learning Faith From Children
Photo, taken by my friend Beth, of me showing the kids my favorite part of the liturgical calendar, using a tool from Godly Play
I’ve started talking about children’s ministry a lot. Sometimes I’m writing about contemplative prayer or creative practices for adults, and somehow it comes up again.
And it’s not just because it’s my job, though I do love it and have been doing it for ten years now.
No, it’s actually because children’s ministry reminds me of something central to our faith: the way God calls all of us to approach Him, with openness, curiosity, and trust.
When Jesus said, “Unless you change and become like little children, you will never enter the kingdom of heaven,” He wasn’t just talking to kids’ volunteers. He was talking to all of us. It’s a call for all of us to learn humility, wonder, and receptivity to God. It’s a posture of heart that can be cultivated at any age. To enter the kingdom like a child means to stay curious, open, trusting, and willing to play. It means remembering how to approach God with wonder instead of certainty.
In children’s ministry, I watch kids naturally explore, notice, wonder, and create. They don’t need complex explanations about God or prayer; they just engage with the world and the stories of faith with full attention. And as I watch them, I realize that this is the same kind of attentiveness and openness God invites adults into, we just forget how to get there sometimes. It reminds us that part of our calling is to create space: to listen, to wonder, and to let God be present in ordinary moments.
That’s part of why I talk about it so much. Children’s ministry isn’t only about teaching Bible stories or keeping kids busy during worship. It’s spiritual direction in action.
In Godly Play and other similar approaches, we don’t rush to explain or give the “right” answers. We make space, ask wondering questions, and trust that God is already at work. That’s exactly what spiritual direction is for adults too: creating space, listening deeply, and paying attention to how God might be speaking.
When I talk about contemplative play, this is what I mean: making space to engage God through imagination, art, and curiosity. It’s a practice that helps adults reconnect with that childlike posture Jesus talked about. It’s a way for adults to practice openness. It’s about slowing down, engaging your imagination, and noticing God at work around you.
We don’t become like children in a magical or automatic way. Play can be a spiritual discipline, a tool to help us remember how to trust, be curious, and fully show up to God. You don’t have to be “good at art” or have it all figured out. You just have to show up, slow down, and let yourself play a little. It’s another way of listening for God.
That’s why I’ve been talking about children’s ministry so often. It’s not just for kids. It’s a living example of how we can all cultivate a posture of childlike faith: open, attentive, and trusting. Every time we make space for wonder, creativity, and quiet noticing, we’re stepping into the kind of faith Jesus calls us to. Children’s ministry simply reminds us what that looks like in practice.
Book Review: Book of Belonging
Every once in a while, I find a children’s Bible storybook that feels like a deep breath. The Book of Belonging by Mariko Clark, with art by Rachel Eleanor, is one of those treasures. It’s full of gentle storytelling, beautiful inclusive illustrations, and such a grounding message: you belong, you are beloved, you are delightful.
I love how this book slows things down. Each story invites kids (and adults!) to pause, notice, and wonder, with “Mindful Moments” for quiet reflection and “Wonder Moments” for open-ended conversation. The stories are familiar, but told with fresh care and attention, highlighting voices and details often overlooked.
Used during a contemplative retreat at our church
Some families may find the language or interpretive choices different from more traditional children’s Bibles, and younger readers might need a little extra help with longer sections, but for those seeking a reflective, imaginative approach, this book is a beautiful fit.
This is a perfect book to keep near your cozy reading corner or to use during family quiet time, Sunday mornings, or bedtime. It’s tender, inclusive, and full of hope, a true companion for kind and contemplative kids (and the grownups guiding them).
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.
Creating and Playing as a Christian Practice
As we move from making space into create and play, I’ve been thinking about what this rhythm really means for those of us who follow Jesus. It’s easy to think of creativity as something for artists or people who are “naturally creative,” but the truth is, we all create. It’s part of being made in God’s image.
Here are a few simple ways I think about creativity and play as part of our life with God.
This picture is of a creation made by one of my church kids and I love it. It's a crocheted egg with a tiny Jesus in it. This is also why I talk about children so much: they show us a way. When was the last time you thought, "I'm going to crochet an egg and put a tiny Jesus in it?" Probably not since you were 11, if ever! But look at it. It's joyful and sweet and I love the heart that made this crochet egg and wanted to put a Jesus in it. Let it be your guide to creativity and play today, as you glorify Him in the process.
1. It starts with God’s presence
Before we do anything creative, we start by making space, sitting with God, praying, or just slowing down long enough to be aware that He’s with us. Jesus said, “Abide in me, and I in you” (John 15:4). Creativity flows best when we begin from that place of connection. We don’t create to earn approval; we create because we already have it.
2. Creativity is how we respond to God’s beauty
Creativity isn’t only about art projects. It’s about noticing something beautiful and responding to it. That might look like taking a photo, cooking a meal, singing in the car, arranging flowers, or writing a few lines in your journal. Psalm 19:1 says, “The heavens declare the glory of God.” When we create, in any form, we join that declaration.
3. Play helps us practice noticing
Play is what keeps us from taking ourselves too seriously. It’s how we learn to notice and enjoy what God is doing around us. When we play, when we experiment, explore, or make something just because, it helps us grow more open and curious. That kind of curiosity helps us see God’s hand in ordinary things.
That’s why I share creative prompts, photo prompts, and prayer ideas each month. They’re not about producing something impressive; they’re about giving yourself permission to notice and enjoy God’s goodness.
4. Everything we create can glorify God
In Colossians 3:17, Paul writes, “Whatever you do, in word or deed, do everything in the name of the Lord Jesus.” That means anything—writing, gardening, organizing your home, or helping your kids with a project—can be an act of worship when it’s done with love and gratitude.
Creating and playing aren’t separate from your faith. They’re ways to live it out, right in the middle of everyday life.
So as we move into this new rhythm, here’s something to think about:
What would it look like for you to create or play with God this week?
An Examen for Create and Play
I like to think of the Examen as a way to help us just live with intentionality. It’s easy to let the days slip by without any reflection, one day just flowing into the next. But if we want the moments to last, we need to live with intentionality. This is where the Examen helps us. The Examen (from Ignatian spirituality) is a gentle, prayerful reflection on your day, noticing where you experienced God’s presence, gratitude, and invitation to growth. So I thought it might be helpful to have an Examen specifically for our create and play rhythm.
1. Become Still
Take a few breaths.
Invite God’s presence with you.
Maybe pray:
“Creator God, You delight in making all things new. Help me see where I joined You in creation today.”
2. Give Thanks
Reflect on moments of creative joy or play.
What felt life-giving, even in small ways?
When did you feel free, curious, or childlike?
What moment of beauty or imagination felt like a gift?
3. Review the Day (or Week)
Look back through your creative moments:
What did you make, explore, or notice?
Were there times you resisted play or held back?
When did you sense flow, connection, or surprise?
When did you feel blocked, pressured, or disconnected?
Try to see these moments as invitations — not successes or failures.
4. Notice God’s Presence
Where might God have been in your creative process?
Was there a moment you sensed delight, peace, or invitation?
What felt sacred, even if it was messy?
5. Respond and Rest
What invitation do you sense for tomorrow or next week?
How might God be inviting you to create or play with Him again?
End with rest, maybe just sitting quietly, or with a simple prayer like:
“Thank You, Creator, for the gift of creativity and play. Help me to create with You again.”
Optional Prompts (for journaling or reflecting with friends)
You can rotate a few of these each week:
What surprised me in my creativity today?
What felt playful or freeing?
What made me tense or afraid to try?
Where did I notice beauty?
What do I want to bring into my next creative moment?
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.
Making Space: Autumn Noticing
Our Making Space rhythm is about glorifying God with our time. It’s a practice of slowing down, clearing room in our days, and choosing presence over hurry. When we make space, we’re saying with our actions that God’s world and God’s presence are worth our attention, and more important than anything else.
For me, sometimes that just means taking time to notice. Efforts to be present in my everyday life, to eliminate distraction, to pay attention… these are small but meaningful ways to honor God with the moments He’s given me.
As a Christian, I believe this is part of my calling: to lift up my head and see life for what it truly is. When I look through the lenses of beauty, freedom, and abundance, I start to recognize God’s hand everywhere. Noticing becomes not just an art form, but a spiritual discipline, a way to worship. (And really, I think creating any kind of art can be a form of worship too.)
This fall, I want to make space to notice:
the colors of the trees
the sound of leaves underfoot
the smell and taste of fall spices
the feel of soft blankets and cozy layers
Maybe that’s why I love this season so much, it’s hard not to notice.
Will you join me in making space to notice this season?
Let’s glorify God with our time by slowing down, paying attention, and living fully in the present.
What will you choose to notice as the days turn golden and cool?
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.
Known, Seen, and Loved: An Examen
As I was thinking about the call to see, know, and love the children in the church, I realized these are calls and desires in everyone’s life, so I thought we could use a little examen that helps us see that we are seen, known, and loved, as well as see the call to see, know, and love others.
1. Presence
Take a deep breath. Ask God to help you see yourself and others with His eyes—eyes of love.
2. Gratitude
When today did I feel truly seen, known, and understood?
Who reflected God’s love to me today in a way that felt unconditional?
3. Reflection
When did I make space for someone else to feel seen and heard?
How did I show love to someone without expecting anything in return?
Did I miss an opportunity to notice or care for someone who needed it?
4. Stretching Love
How have I responded to people who are difficult for me to love?
What is one small way I can practice loving even my enemies, as Christ calls me to?
5. Invitation
Where do I sense God inviting me to grow in seeing, knowing, and loving tomorrow?
What grace do I want to ask for as I end this day?
sacred story time (write a poem)
Last time, Pooh began his plan to get the honey from the bees, but there was a problem. This week, Christopher Robin steps in to help!
As we read this week’s passage, I hope you’ll take some time to wonder about the friendships in your life, how they bring joy and laughter, how they can disappoint. Come play, pray, and wonder with me.
"Oh, there you are!" called down Winnie-the-Pooh, as soon as Christopher Robin got back to the tree. "I was beginning to get anxious. I have discovered that the bees are now definitely Suspicious."
"Shall I put my umbrella up?" Christopher Robin said.
"Yes, but wait a moment. We must be practical. The important bee to deceive is the Queen Bee. Can you see which is the Queen Bee from down there?"
"No."
"A pity. Well, now, if you walk up and down with your umbrella, saying, 'Tut-tut, it looks like rain,' I shall do what I can by singing a little Cloud Song, such as a cloud might sing.... Go!"
So, while Christopher Robin walked up and down and wondered if it would rain, Winnie-the-Pooh sang this song:
How sweet to be a Cloud
Floating in the Blue!
Every little cloud
Always sings aloud.
"How sweet to be a Cloud
Floating in the Blue!"
It makes him very proud
To be a little cloud.
The bees were still buzzing as suspiciously as ever. Some of them, indeed, left their nests and flew all round the cloud as it began the second verse of this song, and one bee sat down on the nose of the cloud for a moment, and then got up again.
Noticing Prompt
Have you ever been disappointed by someone? How did it feel? How were you able to move on? Did the relationship continue? What would it look like to offer forgiveness?
Play Prompt
Make a list of words that rhyme with “bee” and then try to make a silly poem out of them. Maybe even include some made up words! If you do, what do you think those words mean? Why are words so important? How do they make you laugh or cry?
If you are with children, try saying the silly poem while you march in a circle or outside. How do you feel while doing this? How do the kids feel? What emotion are they expressing?
Imagination Prompt
If a friend asked you to do something silly that would embarrass you, would you do it? What factors would influence your decision? How would you feel about it when you make up your mind?
Prayer
Triune God, thank you for creating us for community. Bless our friendships and give us wisdom when they are hard. Help us to respect others as image-bearers, as well as ourselves. Show us what healthy and good community looks like.
Download a PDF of this content for a Winnie-the-Pooh coloring page!
Book Review: Journey to the Heart
What I love about Journey to the Heart by Frank Jelenek is how naturally it connects with the heart of spiritual direction and contemplative play. The book teaches children that silence isn’t empty, it’s a space where God can be noticed. The practice of choosing a “secret word” becomes an anchor, much like the way spiritual direction helps us hold stillness and listen more deeply.
Instead of filling every moment with activity, the book invites letting go, allowing thoughts to drift, creating space for presence. In that “negative space,” children learn the very skills spiritual direction nurtures: listening inwardly, noticing what emerges, and discovering that prayer is not performance but relationship.
It’s a beautiful reminder that even the youngest among us can meet God in stillness, and that play doesn’t always mean doing more. It can also mean making space to be.
Book Review: Nothing
Nothing: John Cage and 4'33" by Nicholas Day tells the story of composer John Cage’s most famous (and infamous) piece: a composition of silence. No notes, no instruments, just the sounds of the room itself: the coughs, the creaks, the shuffling, the wind outside. The book, with its playful art and lyrical text, invites children (and the adults reading with them) to discover that “nothing” is never really empty. Silence is full, if we are willing to listen.
This is where the book touches something deeply connected to contemplative practice and spiritual direction. In spiritual direction, silence is not a gap to be filled but a presence to be noticed. What feels like “nothing” often turns out to be the space where we encounter God most honestly. Just as John Cage discovered that silence was alive with unplanned sound, spiritual direction teaches us that stillness is alive with God’s presence.
Even though this book is not “Christian,” children reading this story learn to trust that quiet is not empty or boring, but brimming with possibility. Adults, too, are reminded that making space for “nothing” is essential. Without silence, we miss the gentle music that is already playing around and within us.
In a noisy, busy world, Nothing: John Cage and 4'33" is more than a biography; it’s an invitation to pause, listen, and discover the sacred in the spaces we usually overlook.
Seen, Known, and Loved: The Calling of Children’s Ministry is Every Adult’s Calling
Whenever I think about children’s ministry, I return again and again to three simple words: seen, known, and loved.
Those three words sum up my deepest hopes for the kids in our church. I want every child to feel truly seen, genuinely known, and deeply loved by the church.
I say the church very intentionally. Of course, I mean Jesus, but the church is the body of Christ. When children feel seen, known, and loved by the church, they are experiencing the love of Jesus in real, tangible ways. And this language matters, because it’s not only about how children feel, it’s a calling for the adults of the church. We are invited (and entrusted) to be the ones who see, know, and love the children in our midst.
Think about what that means. To see a child is to notice them, not just as part of a group, but as an individual with their own gifts, needs, and personality. To know a child is to listen, to remember, to value their voice. And to love a child is to offer warmth, care, patience, and delight in who they are.
When we as adults do this faithfully in a safe environment, we create a foundation of belonging and rest. That foundation matters deeply, because as children grow, they will begin to wrestle with questions of faith. And questioning is not something to fear; it’s healthy, good, and necessary. If children have been rooted in an early experience of being seen, known, and loved, they will feel safe to ask those questions. They will know the church is a place that can hold their doubts and their wonderings, not just their certainties.
This is why “seen, known, and loved” is not just my goal for children’s ministry, it’s a vision for the whole church. Every program, every story, every interaction, every small gesture of care is an opportunity for the body of Christ to live out this calling.
Because when children grow up feeling seen, known, and loved by the church, they are also growing up feeling seen, known, and loved by Jesus. And that is a gift they will carry with them for the rest of their lives.
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.
Ugly Art, Again! From Striving to Receiving
Let’s talk about ugly art again and why it can be an important spiritual practice. By “ugly art,” I mean creating without pressure, control, or concern for polish, art that may never be impressive but is honest, messy, and real.
As Christians, loosening our grip on control and perfection isn’t just emotionally healthy, it’s spiritually essential. Why? Because the Christian life is rooted in grace, not achievement. The gospel tells us we are loved, chosen, and redeemed not because we’ve earned it, but because God is good and merciful. Yet so often, we fall back into striving, trying to prove our worth, manage outcomes, or “get it right” for God.
This is my coloring book and a page I colored. The question on the opposite page feels appropriate: What is God inviting you to notice today?
Control and perfection give us the illusion of safety, but they often keep us from intimacy with God. When we grip too tightly, we block ourselves from receiving. And the life of faith is meant to be received, not controlled.
Jesus invites us to come to Him like children: open-handed, dependent, delighted. He doesn’t say, “Come when you have it all together.” He says, “Come to me, all who are weary and burdened.” The spiritual life is not a ladder to climb but a gift to receive. It is not about mastering holiness, but abiding in Love.
When we shift from striving to receiving, we begin to live from a place of trust. We start to believe that God is not measuring our performance but longing for our presence. We stop managing our relationship with God and start enjoying it. And that’s where intimacy grows, not in perfection, but in presence.
This is why practicing ugly art matters. It trains us to let go, to resist the need to perfect or prove, and to simply be with God. In Scripture, God consistently shows up in quiet, ordinary places, in the whisper, not the whirlwind (1 Kings 19), in the stillness of the garden, in Jesus simply being with people.
When we slow down enough to be present, we create space to actually receive God’s love, rather than trying to earn it or perform for it. And being present reminds us: we are not just workers in God’s Kingdom, we are His beloved.
If making “ugly art” feels uncomfortable, you don’t have to do it alone. In spiritual direction, I love using art practices as a way to let go of expectations and discover God’s presence in simple, freeing, and even playful ways.
Responding to God’s Beauty: Create + Play
It’s time to move from making space into create and play. This is the rhythm we follow here. First, we pause, making space to sit with God, to reflect, to pray, to simply be in His presence. Then, from that stillness, we step into creating and playing.
So often, people think “create” must mean something artistic: painting, coloring, crafting. But creating is so much more than that! I like to think of it as a response, letting ourselves be moved by God’s beauty and then answering with action. It could be snapping a picture, chopping vegetables, lifting your voice in song, journaling, or dancing.
Sometimes this kind of creating flows naturally. Other times, we need to be intentional, and that’s where play comes in. Play loosens us, opens us, helps us practice noticing beauty. That’s why I share photo prompts, creative prompts, and prayer prompts—little invitations that are both playful and reflective.
Sometimes we are stirred by God’s beauty to create. Other times, we create as a way to train our eyes to notice His beauty more clearly.
So how do you want to play this week?