Returning to beauty — especially after seasons of pain, disappointment, or numbness — can feel like standing barefoot at the edge of a familiar sea you once loved but now hesitate to wade into. There’s memory there. There’s an ache and there’s a quiet yearning too.

Here’s the truth I’ve come to know gently, slowly, and with much stumbling: Beauty doesn’t demand perfection or readiness — only presence.

Beauty, in its truest form, doesn’t mock our wounds. It honours them. It doesn’t require us to have everything sorted. It simply asks us to notice — to let our eyes rest on a soft bloom, a morning sky, the warmth of a candle’s glow and allow ourselves to feel again, even if just a little.

To return to beauty without fear might look like this:

Start small. Trace the patterns in a leaf. Let music find you when you're not looking. Light a candle and watch the flame dance. These moments are not trivial — they are portals back to your soul.

Be honest with your heart. If beauty has felt dangerous or painful — maybe because you’ve felt unworthy of it, or because it reminded you of loss — speak that aloud. God is not shocked by your hesitations.

Invite God into the noticing. “Lord, help me see beauty as You see it — not as something fragile to be earned, but as a gift freely given.” Scripture tells us, “He has made everything beautiful in its time” (Ecclesiastes 3:11 NIV) and that includes you.

Let beauty be an act of courage. Whether it's painting again, walking in nature, dressing in colours that make your spirit sing — it’s okay to be seen. Even by yourself. Especially by yourself.

Beauty isn't frivolous. It’s healing. It’s holy. And I believe it's a language God uses to whisper, “You’re still beloved.”

So gently now, step back into it. Let yourself be surprised.