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An Examen for Parenthood
Parenthood is full of beautiful, joyful moments, but it can also be exhausting, frustrating, and overwhelming. Sometimes we move through our days so quickly that we don't have much time to notice what we're feeling or where God might be meeting us in the midst of it all.
This simple Examen is an invitation to slow down, reflect on your life as a parent, and bring all of it into God's presence.
Begin by sitting in silence and becoming aware of God's presence. He is always with us, even when our minds aren't turned toward him. Take a few deep breaths and allow yourself to rest in the knowledge that he is near.
Think about the past day, week, month, or even year of parenthood. You might choose to reflect on a particular season or simply see what memories come to mind. There's no need to analyze everything. Just notice.
What moments are you thankful for? Were there times of laughter and togetherness? Moments of honesty and vulnerability? Perhaps there were small, ordinary moments that brought you joy or reminded you of the gift of being a parent. Take some time to thank God for these moments.
As you think about this season of parenthood, what feelings surface? Is there sadness or grief? Is there deep joy? Maybe there is frustration, worry, or exhaustion. Perhaps there is a combination of many things. You don't need to change or explain these feelings. Simply notice them and allow yourself to be honest with God about what you're experiencing.
Lift it all up to God. The gratitude, the disappointment, the laughter, the mistakes, the hopes, and the worries. He is with you in all of it. You don't have to be a perfect parent to be loved by God, and you don't have to have everything figured out to bring it to him.
Finally, look toward tomorrow. What do you hope to carry with you into the next day with your children? Is there something you want to do differently? Something you want to remember or hold on to? Perhaps God is inviting you toward greater patience, more playfulness, or simply a willingness to be present.
As you finish, take another moment of silence. Remember that God loves your children even more than you do, and that he is at work in their lives and yours.
You might close with a simple prayer:
Jesus, thank you for the gift of these children and for your presence in our lives. Help me to notice your goodness in the ordinary moments, to trust you with the difficult ones, and to love my children with the love you so generously give to me. Amen.
prayer crafts: stamping leaves
Prayer Crafts, where we make something, and it means something.
As soon as October arrived, I started seeing leaf-stamping crafts all over my Instagram feed, and I knew I had to turn this into a prayer craft! What better way to engage with God's beautiful world than to head outside and collect some leaves?
Today, we're going to use those leaves to make beautiful autumn cards while spending a little time noticing, wondering, and talking with God.
What You'll Need
Heavy paper or blank cards
An ink pad (or several in your favorite autumn colors!)
Leaves of all different shapes and sizes
Collecting and Praying
As you head outside to collect your leaves, take your time. Notice the colors, the shapes, and the way the seasons are changing. Autumn reminds us that letting go is a natural part of life, even when it isn't easy.
I wonder if there is something in your own life that God might be inviting you to release?
Maybe it's a worry you've been carrying, an expectation you've placed on yourself, or something you've been holding onto a little too tightly. As you collect your leaves, talk to Jesus about whatever comes to mind. If letting go feels scary, tell Him. If you're tired, frustrated, or uncertain, bring that to Him, too. You don't have to have everything figured out.
We can trust that God is good, even when we don't know what comes next.
Creating and Noticing
Once you've gathered your leaves, it's time to play! Press your leaves into the ink pads and stamp them onto your paper. Experiment with different shapes, colors, and arrangements. See what happens when you overlap the prints or combine different leaves.
And you don't have to make cards! You could stamp leaves into your journal or sketchbook, decorate a notebook, or even use fabric paint to make autumn dish towels or T-shirts.
As you stamp, continue to reflect on whatever came up during your walk.
I wonder what it might look like to place that thing into God's hands?
I wonder what it means to trust that He is holding you, even as you let go?
Remember that you don't have to force yourself to release anything today. Simply spend some time with your good, good Father, remembering that He knows what you carry and loves you through it all.
And as you enjoy the simple beauty of these autumn leaves, may they remind you that even in seasons of change and uncertainty, God is present, faithful, and good.
Creative Prompt: An Umbrella
I wonder what helps you feel sheltered?
An umbrella doesn't stop the rain from falling. It doesn't change the weather or make the storm disappear. But it does give us a little place of shelter right in the middle of it. I think that's a helpful picture of what life with Jesus can be like.
Following Jesus doesn't mean we won't experience hard things. We still have worries, disappointments, difficult relationships, and seasons when life feels overwhelming. But Scripture reminds us again and again that God is our refuge. He is present with us, caring for us even when our circumstances don't change.
Today we're going to draw a simple umbrella and spend some time wondering about what it means to find shelter in Jesus.
Draw or paint a simple umbrella, or use this coloring page.
As you draw, hold this wondering:
What helps me feel sheltered?
Wondering with Jesus
As you work, you might wonder:
Where do I feel most safe and sheltered?
Who are the people through whom I experience God's care?
What helps me remember that Jesus is with me when life feels difficult?
Is there an area of my life where I'm longing for shelter right now?
I wonder what it means for God to be my refuge?
I wonder how Jesus is caring for me in this season?
Is there something I would like to bring to Jesus and ask him to hold with me?
You don't need to answer every question. Notice if one catches your attention and stay with it for a little while.
A Kid-Friendly Version
Invite kids to draw and decorate an umbrella.
They can make it as colorful or silly as they'd like. Maybe it's a rainbow umbrella, an umbrella covered in stars, or one big enough to shelter an elephant!
As they color, you might wonder together:
What does an umbrella do?
Where do you like to go when you want to feel safe?
Who helps you feel loved and cared for?
What do you like to do when you're feeling worried or afraid?
I wonder how Jesus takes care of us when things are hard?
You could also read Psalm 46:1 together: "God is our refuge and strength, an ever-present help in trouble."
Finding Shelter in Jesus
Throughout Scripture, God is described as our refuge, our hiding place, and our shelter. Psalm 91:4 gives us a beautiful picture of God's care:
"He will cover you with his feathers, and under his wings you will find refuge."
I love that image of being gathered close. Sometimes we think that trusting Jesus means we should feel peaceful all the time. But finding refuge in God doesn't mean we never feel afraid or overwhelmed. It means we have somewhere to bring those feelings. We can come to Jesus with our worries, our questions, our disappointments, and our needs. We don't have to pretend the rain isn't falling.
And sometimes God's care reaches us through very ordinary things: a friend who checks in, a quiet place to rest, someone who prays with us, or a moment when we remember that we aren't alone. Part of practicing God's presence is learning to notice those places of shelter and receive them as gifts.
A Closing Invitation
When your umbrella is finished, take a moment to look at it. As you sit quietly with Jesus, you might ask:
Jesus, where are you offering me shelter and care right now?
And perhaps:
What would it look like to receive your care instead of trying to manage everything on my own?
Stay with Jesus for a little while, noticing whatever comes.
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 Little Announcement: Fairy Light!
As part of my own create and play rhythms over the past few years, I have spent a lot of time writing and drawing. You may know that I have written and illustrated two children's books, though I don't talk about them much at this point because I'm a bit embarrassed by the illustrations.
To my surprise, after spending years playing at being creative, I've actually been able to improve my artistic skills! (I talk a lot about how this, to me, shows the abundance of God's goodness: that I can play at art, simply for the joy of creating, and somehow my art actually improves along the way.)
So when I decided to revisit a project that I had started more than five years ago, imagine my surprise when it felt easier to illustrate! I started adding pieces that were missing and reworking pictures I had once considered finished. Things that had felt difficult years ago suddenly felt a little more possible. (I love that about creativity. We don't always know what is happening as we play and practice and try new things. Sometimes the fruit of that play doesn't become visible until much later.)
Well, I'm so excited to announce that my newest children's picture book, Fairy Light, is available for preorder!
From the back of the book:
Lucy wants more than anything to shine like the other fairies. But as she travels through the fairy village, noticing beauty and speaking kindness wherever she goes, she discovers that perhaps she's been shining all along.
A gentle story about kindness, noticing beauty, and the light we bring to the world.
I think there's something in Lucy's story for all of us. We can spend so much time wondering whether we have something special to offer, when perhaps we are already sharing something beautiful simply by being who God made us to be.
I'm so excited to share this story with you, and I hope that you and the children in your life will be encouraged by Lucy.
Fairy Light is a fully illustrated hardcover picture book for children ages 3–8, and it's scheduled for release on December 1!
I'll be sharing more about the book, including where you can order a copy, very soon. Thank you for being part of this little creative journey with me!
I don’t have time for that! (I don’t think that’s for me, part 2)
On rest, play, and letting go of productivity
This post is part of “I Don't Think That's for Me,” a series exploring some of the things I hear people say about creativity, prayer, silence, and spiritual direction. Sometimes the assumptions we make about ourselves keep us from experiencing the good gifts God has for us. In this series, I'm taking a closer look at some of those assumptions and offering a different way to think about them. My hope is that you'll find a little more freedom to notice, wonder, play, and make space for God in your life.
“I don't have time to be creative.”
Remember my definition of creativity from Part 1?
Creativity is our response to God's world through noticing, wondering, exploring, and making.
When we think about creativity this way, it becomes much easier to see how it can fit into our everyday lives. Creativity doesn't have to mean setting aside an afternoon to paint or work on a project. It can be noticing something beautiful on a walk, wondering about something you've read, trying a new recipe, or finding a new way to solve a problem.
You might already be more creative than you realize!
And I would gently encourage you to make room for creativity in your life, even in small ways. Not because it's another thing you should be doing, but because noticing, wondering, exploring, and making help us engage more fully with the world God has given us.
“I'm too busy to slow down.”
I think sometimes this is a matter of priorities. We all find ways to take a break, but often those breaks look more like escaping than actually resting. (And I am the greatest culprit!)
There's nothing necessarily wrong with watching television or scrolling through your phone, but I know that sometimes I turn to those things because I don't want to think or feel or pay attention to anything at all.
And there's a difference between escaping our lives for a little while and making space to be present in them.
If slowing down feels impossible, start small. Maybe you spend a few minutes in silence once a week. Maybe you set aside an afternoon once a month to do something creative. Or maybe you schedule a spiritual direction appointment! Sometimes having that time on the calendar, especially with another person, helps us protect it.
The goal isn't to add another obligation to your life. It's to make a little room to receive what God might have for you. (See my blog post on Making Space as Surrender)
“I feel guilty taking time for myself.”
This is a big one, whether we say it consciously or not.
In a world that values productivity, busyness, and even stress, slowing down to do something restful or playful can feel wrong. Countercultural, even!
But God has modeled rest for us. He didn't create us to be endlessly productive. He created us for relationship with him, with one another, and with the world he made. Rest and play aren't rewards we earn after we've accomplished enough. They're good gifts we're allowed to receive.
And maybe that's what makes rest so difficult sometimes. We have to let go of the idea that our time is only valuable when we're accomplishing something.
The next time you feel guilty for resting, I wonder if you could pause and ask yourself why? What makes you feel that you need to earn your rest? And what might God want you to know about that?
Remember that you don't have to justify that time by making it useful. You are allowed to enjoy the gifts God has given you simply because they are good.
Creative prompt: A row of trees
I wonder where you feel rooted?
For this creative practice, we're going to paint a simple row of trees and spend some time wondering about our own roots, especially the people, places, practices, and truths that help us stay rooted in Jesus.
Paint or draw a row of trees, or color in this coloring page. Keep them simple. A trunk and a few branches are enough. Make each one different if you'd like. You can add roots beneath them, or leave the roots unseen.
As you work, hold this wondering: Where do I feel rooted?
You don't need to decide what your trees represent. Just paint and notice what comes to mind.
Wondering with Jesus
As you create, you might wonder:
Where do I feel most grounded and at home?
Who are the people who help me stay rooted?
What practices help me stay close to Jesus?
What truths about Jesus do I return to when life feels uncertain?
What has helped my roots grow deeper over time?
Is anything making me feel uprooted right now?
I wonder where Jesus is giving me what I need in this season?
I wonder what it means for my life to be rooted in his love?
You don't need to answer all of these.
Notice if one seems to catch your attention, and stay there for a while.
A Kid-Friendly Version
Invite kids to draw or paint a whole row of trees.
Make them as different as possible: tall trees, tiny trees, rainbow trees, fruit trees, trees with enormous leaves or trees with nests tucked into their branches.
Then draw some roots underneath.
You might wonder together:
What helps a tree grow strong?
What helps you feel strong and loved?
Who helps take care of you?
What helps you remember that Jesus loves you?
I wonder how Jesus helps us grow?
Let the conversation wander. Their answers don't need to fit neatly into the tree metaphor.
Rooted in Jesus
Being rooted in Jesus doesn't mean we always feel strong. Trees have seasons. They lose leaves. They grow new ones. They bend in storms. Sometimes very little seems to be happening above the ground at all. The roots remain.
Our life with Jesus can have seasons, too. There may be times when prayer feels easy and times when it doesn't. Times when we are growing in obvious ways and times when we can't see much happening. Our rootedness doesn't depend on constantly feeling close to God or getting our spiritual life exactly right.
We can keep returning to Jesus.
Jesus, what is helping me stay rooted in you right now?
And perhaps:
Where are you growing roots in me that I can't see yet?
You don't have to find an answer.
Just stay with Jesus for a little while and notice what comes.
But I'm Not Creative! (I Don't Think That's for Me, Part 1)
On creativity, art, and being made in God's image
This post is part of “I Don't Think That's for Me,” a series exploring some of the things I hear people say about creativity, prayer, silence, and spiritual direction. Sometimes the assumptions we make about ourselves keep us from experiencing the good gifts God has for us. In this series, I'm taking a closer look at some of those assumptions and offering a different way to think about them. My hope is that you'll find a little more freedom to notice, wonder, play, and make space for God in your life.
“I'm not creative.”
I would argue that everyone is creative because we are made in the image of a creative God! Often, I think what people really mean is that they aren't artistic. (And I might argue further that perhaps you just aren't particularly interested in being artistic, and that's okay, too!)
Here's how I define creativity:
Creativity is our response to God's world through noticing, wondering, exploring, and making.
Think about that for a minute. Do you notice things? Do you wonder about them? Do you explore new ideas, try new things, or find different ways of doing something? Do you make things, whether that's a meal, a garden, a story, or a solution to a problem?
Of course you do! We all do these things because we're human, made in the image of a creative God.
You don't have to be an artist to be creative. You already are!
“I don't like crafts, so I won't like your retreats.”
My retreats are less about the project and more about the prayer that goes along with it. Yes, we'll do an art project or a craft (depending on the retreat), but we're not trying to make something beautiful. We're allowing ourselves to enjoy the process, experiment a little, and take time to notice what God might be saying to us.
The creative activity gives us something to do with our hands while we slow down and pay attention. Sometimes it helps us notice things we might otherwise overlook. Sometimes it brings up frustration or resistance. Sometimes it's simply enjoyable!
And all of that can become part of our conversation with God.
You don't have to love crafts or be good at art to participate. You just have to be willing to show up and see what happens.
“I don't want to make ugly art.”
I get that, because making ugly art feels pointless. But that's kind of the point!
It's a reminder that we don't have to be beautiful, make beautiful things, or accomplish anything impressive in order for God to love us. His delight in us isn't based on our usefulness to him!
But here's the wonderful thing about how God made us: when we give ourselves the freedom to make ugly art, we often end up making beautiful art, too! As we play and experiment and create without worrying about the outcome, we naturally begin to grow in skill. What a generous gift from a creative God!
Of course, making beautiful art isn't the goal. The freedom to create without accomplishing anything is valuable all on its own. But I love that God made us in such a way that even as we simply enjoy the process, we can grow and learn along the way.
(And I might argue, what is beautiful art, anyway? Maybe there's beauty in the process itself!)
breath prayer for making space
How will I make space for God?
Just remember that the question isn't really What spiritual things will I accomplish this month?
It's closer to: Where can I stop striving? How might I turn toward the God who is already here?
Inhale: You are already here.
Exhale: I surrender to your presence.
Making space isn't how I get myself to God. It's surrendering to the God who is already here.
Photo Prompt: Water
Photograph water.
What helps me feel restored?
Practicing the presence is partly about noticing what brings us back to ourselves and to an awareness of God with us. We can move through our days tired, distracted, or carrying more than we realize.
Water gives us a simple picture of being refreshed and renewed.
As you photograph water today, consider what restores you. Maybe it’s quiet, time outside, making something, being with someone you love, prayer, movement, or simply getting enough rest.
Notice what helps you feel more present and alive.
And perhaps receive that restoration as a gift from God, too.
Not all spiritual formation looks serious.
This is a carousel I shared on Instagram, but I felt like it deserved a place on my blog. So instead of trying to write a blog post based on a series of pictures, I did the efficient (lazy?) thing and just posted those pictures here.
Caption: I feel like I should be making videos for Instagram so I can prove it's just me here behind the scenes but I really don't want to start doing that! So I thought I'd start doing some carousels of some of the play in my life. All of these ways of playing form us, and it is a good God who forms us just as much through play as through study and contemplation and prayer. I will say that often my play actually does turn to contemplation because I am moved from play to joy to praise (and I would argue that all that IS prayer!)! That is why I will keep talking about contemplative play on here. I am in awe of a God who would allow me to find him in play, who gives me joy even in grief and hard days.
Creative Prompt: Paint a stack of books
What am I learning or noticing as I live with Jesus right now?
We are always learning and noticing things as we move through our days. Sometimes we learn something about ourselves. Sometimes we notice an old pattern showing up again. We discover something that brings us joy, or something that makes us tired. We realize we're changing our mind about something. We become aware of a question we keep returning to.
And sometimes, when we pay attention to all of this with Jesus, we begin to notice something about him, too.
So for this creative practice, we're going to paint a simple stack of books and make some space to wonder:
What am I learning or noticing as I live with Jesus right now?
Draw or paint a stack of books or use this coloring page. As you work, think about your life with Jesus lately.
What have you been noticing?
Wondering Questions
As you create, you might wonder:
What have I been noticing about myself lately?
What seems to keep getting my attention?
What has been bringing me life?
What has felt difficult or uncomfortable?
When have I felt especially close to Jesus?
What am I noticing about who Jesus is?
Is there something Jesus seems to keep bringing me back to?
What am I curious about in my life with Jesus right now?
You don't need to answer all of these.
Notice if one seems to catch your attention. Stay with that one.
A Kid-Friendly Version
Invite kids to draw a stack of colorful books. They can decorate the covers, add funny titles, or make each book completely different.
As they work, you might wonder together:
What have you noticed lately?
What has made you really happy?
Has anything felt hard?
When do you feel close to Jesus?
What do you wonder about Jesus right now?
There's no particular answer you're trying to get from them. Let their wondering go wherever it goes.
A Closing Invitation
When your stack of books is finished, take a moment to look at it. Then sit quietly with Jesus and ask:
Jesus, what am I learning or noticing as I live with you right now?
Don't work too hard to find an answer, just notice what comes.
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.
retreats & spiritual direction
I’ve been doing a lot of arts and crafts retreats recently, and I love them so much. They bring together two things I love: arts and crafts, and talking about, and simply being with, Jesus. And I’m finding that they can be a really gentle introduction to contemplation, especially for people who might feel a little intimidated by spiritual direction.
These retreats do have some spiritual direction woven into them. We sit together in silence and listen for God. We share what’s on our hearts and what we’re noticing. We don’t try to solve problems, for ourselves or for one another. We simply offer each other our presence.
But retreats and spiritual direction aren’t quite the same thing.
A retreat gives you a place to slow down, play, make something, and notice what might be stirring in you. Spiritual direction gives you more space to stay with those things—to wonder about them with someone who is listening alongside you, and to pay attention over time to what God might be doing in your life.
I would hate for someone to discover that they love this kind of contemplative space at a retreat and think that means they don’t need spiritual direction. If anything, I hope the retreats might make spiritual direction feel a little less mysterious or intimidating.
So I guess what I’m saying is: you should do both. 😊
what if play is part of how we know God?
I’ve been talking lately about the relationship between play and creativity. I talk about creativity a lot. I love to paint and color and write. I lead creative retreats and share creative prompts. But even though it might seem like it, creativity isn’t really the center of what I do. Play is. More specifically, contemplative play. I think creativity is one expression of play, but play is much bigger than creativity.
And I think playfulness matters more to our life with God than we sometimes realize. Christians put a lot of emphasis on the intellectual side of faith. We study Scripture, read books, listen to sermons, and learn theology. All of those things are good, and I certainly don’t want to dismiss them. But sometimes I wonder if we have quietly decided that these are the serious ways of knowing God.
Play can seem frivolous by comparison, maybe even a little childish and silly. Except Jesus keeps pointing us toward children.
He tells his disciples that the kingdom of God belongs to people who receive it like a child. And I don’t think that means children have nothing to learn. It means there is something about the posture of a child that grown-ups desperately need.
Children wonder, imagine, and don’t think twice about receiving and needing. They delight in simple things. They ask questions without always needing immediate answers. They can become completely absorbed in something simply because it is interesting or beautiful or fun.
What if some of that belongs in our life with God, too?
Look at the world God made. It is not merely functional; it is extravagant! There are thousands of kinds of flowers and beetles and birds. There are ridiculous-looking animals and enormous mountains and tiny mushrooms. There are colors and textures and tastes and sounds that don't seem necessary for our survival at all. Creation gives us plenty of reason to believe that God values delight!
And Jesus himself doesn't seem interested only in filling people's minds with correct information. He tells stories, asks questions, notices flowers and birds, celebrates at weddings and provides meals. He welcomes children who the adults apparently think are interrupting something more important.
Maybe growing in faith isn't only about knowing more. Maybe sometimes it is about becoming more receptive, curious, playful, and delighted. More willing to wonder and receive the kingdom as a gift instead of something we can master.
That is part of what I mean by contemplative play.
Contemplation invites us to pay attention, to slow down, notice and receive what is already here. Play brings curiosity, imagination, freedom and delight to that attention. Sometimes contemplative play looks like painting or coloring. Sometimes it looks like wondering about a Bible story using imaginative prayer, without rushing toward the "right" answer. Sometimes it looks like walking outside, noticing something strange, making something just because you want to, laughing, experimenting, or sitting quietly enough to see what catches your attention.
None of this replaces Scripture or theology or learning, but I wonder if it helps us know God in another way. Because God is not an idea to understand. He is a person to know and love. And maybe our intellect is only one of the ways we were made to know him.
We were also given bodies and senses, imagination, curiosity, and laughter. The ability to make and explore and wonder and delight. Those aren't distractions from a serious spiritual life. I think they are part of it that we too often forget.
Maybe Jesus' invitation to become like children isn't an invitation to know less, maybe it's an invitation to receive and play more.
And that’s why I use creativity so often. Creativity gives us a way to practice this kind of play, to experiment, wonder, notice, imagine, and make something without needing to know exactly where we’re going. So I paint and color and write. I lead creative retreats and share creative prompts. Not because I think everyone needs to become more creative, but because making things gives us a way to play. And in that play, maybe we can become a little more like children: curious, receptive, delighted, and open to what God might want to give us.
Photo Prompt: Photograph a mushroom
Today’s Practicing the Presence invitation: Photograph a mushroom.
Is there a season for mushrooms? I’m not sure, but they seem to be everywhere in my yard all of a sudden. Mushrooms appear almost overnight, especially after rain. You may not have noticed anything happening, and then suddenly, there they are.
As you take your photo, ask yourself:
What might be happening in my life that I can’t see yet?
Practicing the presence means paying attention to what God is doing right now, even when we don’t fully understand it or see the results yet. Sometimes we notice God’s work clearly. Other times, much of it seems to be happening beneath the surface.
A mushroom can be a small reminder that unseen doesn’t mean inactive.
Today, notice what appears. And consider where you might trust that God is at work even when you can’t see it yet.
Creative prompt: draw a bunch of stars
Draw or paint a page full of stars or color the ones on this coloring page.
They can be big or tiny, neat or wonky. You can make five-pointed stars, simple asterisks, little bursts of light, or whatever kind of star is easiest for you to make. As you work, hold this question:
I wonder what has felt bright lately?
Wondering with Jesus
As you draw, you might wonder:
What has felt bright lately?
What small good thing have I almost overlooked?
When have I felt especially alive or joyful?
Where have I noticed hope?
Where have I experienced God's goodness recently?
I wonder what Jesus might be inviting me to notice and enjoy?
You don't need to turn every good thing into a spiritual lesson. Sometimes noticing and enjoying a gift is enough.
A Kid-Friendly Version
Invite kids to fill a page with stars.
As they draw or color, ask them to think of things that have made them happy lately: playing with a friend, a favorite meal, something funny that happened, a pet, a good day at school, playing outside.
They can draw or write one thing inside each star.
You might wonder together:
What made you smile this week?
What was something really good?
What do you want to thank Jesus for?
I wonder what Jesus loved seeing you enjoy?
A Closing Invitation
When you're finished, look over your collection of stars. Notice all the different things that came to mind.
Then sit quietly with Jesus for a moment and ask:
Jesus, is there any light in my life that you want to help me notice?
Wait without trying too hard to find an answer. Maybe another small bright thing will come to mind. If it does, there's always room for one more star.
Making Space as Surrender
I've been wrestling with the phrase make space for God. I don't want my spiritual practices to become another list of things I should be doing. I don't want to imagine that if I pray enough, sit in silence long enough, or pay close enough attention, I can somehow make God show up. Because God is already here.
So perhaps making space isn't really about creating something at all. Maybe making space is an act of surrender. It's releasing my need to make something happen. Releasing the pressure to have a meaningful experience with God. Releasing even my attempts to notice God particularly well.
Instead, I can rest in what is already true: God is present. God is acting. God is holding me.
And from that place of surrender, I can make actual, embodied space in my life. I can put down my phone. Sit in silence. Pick up a paintbrush. Take a walk. Pray. Wonder. Pay attention. Not because these things bring God closer, but because I am learning to orient my life toward the God who is already close.
That's the part of making space I don't want to lose. The space is my actual life—my house, my body, my work, my relationships, my neighborhood, my time. I want all of it to be increasingly oriented around God.
But that orientation begins with surrender, not effort. So maybe I can keep asking myself each month, How will I make space for God? As long as I remember that the question isn't really What spiritual things will I accomplish this month?
It's closer to: Where can I stop striving? How might I turn toward the God who is already here?
And maybe before I make any plans at all, I can breathe:
Inhale: You are already here.
Exhale: I surrender to your presence.
Making space isn't how I get myself to God. It's surrendering to the God who is already here.
What Does It Mean to “Make Space for God”?
At the beginning of every month, I talk about how we can make space for God. I appreciate that practice because it helps me center myself before God and realign my priorities. It brings my attention back to what God is already doing.
But to be honest, I'm getting so I don't even like the term make space. Sometimes it sounds like something we do in our own strength, almost as if we can manufacture God's presence. If I can just be quiet enough, pray enough, slow down enough, pay enough attention...then maybe I'll experience God. And when something becomes dependent on our own effort, we inevitably feel guilty when we fail.
Making space becomes another spiritual achievement.
Every month, I like to set an intention and ask, How will I make space for God this month? I still think there is something good about that question. But I can't stay there too long without reminding myself of what comes first:
God is already here. God is already acting. God is already holding me.
Silence, creativity, spiritual direction, wondering, prayer—none of these practices produce God's presence. They aren't techniques for getting ourselves into the right state so God can reach us. They're ways of turning toward a reality that precedes our effort.
And maybe even more importantly: I don't have to successfully make space for God for God to be present.
I don't have to have a beautiful quiet time. I don't have to feel particularly spiritual. I don't even have to be particularly good at paying attention. God isn't waiting on the other side of my successful spiritual practice. He's already here.
So I'm still wrestling with what I mean when I say make space for God. Maybe I don't need to stop saying it. Maybe I just need to understand it differently.