Sometimes the most sacred thing we can do is begin again

Hey there,

There is something I’ve been carrying quietly for a long time.

Truthfully, I’ve started writing this email more times than I can count because I wasn’t sure where to begin.

But, maybe the beginning is simply this… last December, I laid down something I thought I would be creating for the rest of my life.

After years of creating prayer art jewelry, I decided to step away.

If you’ve been here for a while, you saw me set this down. What you didn’t know was that months before I made the decision, God had already begun whispering to my heart, “It’s time to rest.”

At first, I resisted. How could I walk away from something that had become such a defining part of my life? Prayer Art jewelry had carried me through grief, healing, motherhood, and countless prayers. It connected me with so many of you. It was never just jewelry. It was ministry.

Yet something else was happening that I didn’t know how to explain. The creative spark that had always felt so alive inside me was beginning to dim.

That terrified me.

Because creating has never simply been what I do, it’s where I meet God. It’s where I hear Him most clearly. It’s where my heart comes alive.

I worried that if I laid one thing down, I might lose that part of myself altogether.

Instead… with time I discovered something I never expected.

Sometimes God asks us to set something down not because it was wrong, but because He’s making room for something new.

Looking back now, I can see that stepping away wasn’t an ending, it was an opening.

Over the last several months, I’ve found myself becoming curious again.

I’ve picked up new art supplies. Experimented with new mediums. I've sat in the quiet. I've wandered more than ever. Started telling stories I didn’t know were waiting to be written.

This spring, I released a new book, When the Words are Hard to Find.

And what I haven’t shared until now is that writing that book opened something in me I didn’t know had been waiting on the sidelines... the writers block was lifted and the floodgates opened.

Ideas that had quietly lived in my journals for years suddenly began connecting. Stories I’ve carried for decades started finding their voice. Books that I thought were years away began asking to be written now.

Somewhere in the middle of all of that, I realized something that has completely changed the way I think about creativity.

I thought God was asking me to become something new, but He was actually inviting me back to the practice.

Not the practice of making jewelry.

Not the practice of becoming an artist.

The practice of paying attention.

The practice of noticing beauty.

The practice of creating with open hands.

The practice of showing up faithfully, even when inspiration feels far away.

The practice of believing that ordinary moments can become sacred when we invite God into them.

And the more I’ve leaned into that practice over the last few months, the more I’ve realized something else.

I don’t think I was ever meant to walk this road alone.

For months, I’ve been quietly dreaming about creating a place where we could practice this kind of life together. Where we could walk alongside each other in pursuit of creative joy.

A place to pull up a chair.

To write.

To pray.

To observe.

To paint.

To wonder.

To tell stories.

To create beautiful things... a place where we notice beautiful things.

Most of all… a place to become more awake to the life God is already inviting us to live.

Tomorrow, I’d love to tell you about what that place has become... it has a name now. And I have a feeling it might become one of the most meaningful things I’ve ever created. And let me tell you, this isn't just for "artists" or "makers" it's for everyone. Even if you feel like you don't have an artsy bone in your body.

Until then… maybe sit with this question today:

Has there ever been something you had to lay down in order to make room for what God was creating next?

I think there is a sacredness to those seasons that we often don’t recognize until we’re standing on the other side.

With so much love,

P.S. If you don't want to hear about this, simply click here and we will not send you any more emails about it.​