Let’s settle in, dear heart, as though we’re resting under the shade of an old fig tree, our hands wrapped around warm mugs, the air humming softly with grace. I want to tell you a little story — one that might echo the chambers of your own weary soul when the colours dull and the words refuse to come.

Some years ago, I sat at my worktable surrounded by half-finished paintings, dry paint pots, and a heart so hollow it rattled. I remember touching the bristles of my favourite brush, willing it to stir something — anything. But all I felt was fatigue. Not just physical, but soul-deep. I thought, “Have I lost it 🤔? That spark, that sacred whisper? 🤔”

It was then that I stumbled across this verse:

📖 "Blessed are those who hunger and thirst for righteousness, for they shall be filled." — Matthew 5:6 (ESV)

Not blessed are the productive or the inspired. But the hungry. The thirsty. The ones brave enough to admit, “I need.”

That changed everything for me.

I stopped trying to force inspiration and started seeking presence. I lit a candle, let my tears fall, and whispered a simple prayer: “Fill me, Lord, not so I can do, but so I can simply be.” And in that stillness, the Spirit moved — not in a flood of ideas, but in a slow, gentle unfurling. Like petals opening to morning light.

📖 "Come to Me, all you who labour and are heavy laden, and I will give you rest." — Matthew 11:28 (NKJV)

Come to Me!”

 Today my path crossed yours again

along the road

but it seemed full of pain.

You looked as though you were carrying a load

too heavy for you to bear alone.

And even though your face was smiling,

in your eyes I could see your heart crying.

I wished so dearly

to be able to help you

lessen your troubles

and brighten your day.

If only you’d have talked to me,

I’d share your troubles and help you carry

that burden which seems to be far too heavy.

And even though I mightn’t have

the answer to your question,

I’d love to give to you

this one suggestion,

and if you try it you will find

that within time your load’ll be light.

“Come to Me,” is what Jesus said

“all of you who are tired

from carrying heavy loads,

and I will give you rest”[1] 

The yoke that He will put on you

is easy.  The load that He will give to you

is light. [2]  If only you’d look up to the mountains,

you would find your help to come

from the Lord [3] for He alone

can take your cares away from you.

Thus if your burden’s too heavy to bear,

why not take it to Him in prayer?

Place all your troubles in God’s care

for He’ll always have the time to spare

to lead you; guide you,

wherever you go,

making sure you stay on the right road.

[1]  Matt. 11:28.

[2] Matt. 11:30.

[3] Psalm 121:1.

📖 "With joy you will draw water from the wells of salvation." — Isaiah 12:3 (NIV)

These words are an invitation — not to hustle harder, but to draw close. To dip our empty cups into His well of living water. To remember that inspiration is not our responsibility to manufacture — it’s His to stir.

We are not machines cranking out art or words or music. We are sacred vessels. Sometimes cracked, sometimes dry — but always beloved. And it is He who fills the cracks with gold, like kintsugi pottery, making even our emptiness part of the beauty.

So if you’re staring at your creative blankness today, take heart. It’s not a dead end — it’s a doorway. Return to the well. Rest. Receive. Be held.

Let this be your soul’s gentle question this week:

🌿 Where have I been striving from scarcity, and how can I shift into creating from God’s abundance? 🤔

You are not forgotten in your dry season. You are being formed, beloved. The rain will come.

With gentle grace💛