• Center For Women

Creating through Writing

Taking time out of your day to write a blog about taking time out of your day is weirdly stressful. I have been writing as a form of worship/prayer off and on for about 16 years. I was first introduced to the idea of writing as worship at a summer camp the summer before I went to high school.

Now, let me just help you, as a VERY awkward post middle schooler, pre-high schooler I was always uncomfortable. I loved singing, and I continue to love singing. However, something about that age makes you feel terrible. I blame hormones. I was at the summer camp, and I had no idea what I was doing. At this point, I wasn’t very active in youth group (which is super fun to think about that now I’m married to a youth director). I literally never talked. I hated other people because it seemed like making friends was so easy to everyone else. My brother was the complete opposite, and that’s why my parents basically forced me into going to the same worship arts camp he was dying to go to. I needed friends.

The first day of camp they gave us journals to decoupage symbols of our life and faith on. I can’t remember everything that was on it, but I do remember loving it. The next day that “Camp Papa,” Ken Helser, as he was so lovingly called, led a workshop on worship journaling. He told us to write the day and draw a picture of something that happened that day beside the date to help us recall the circumstances behind the entry. He then told us to write out our thoughts and prayers.

People too often overthink prayer and worship. It’s simply a conversation between a father and a child. Ken told us just to write all we could; our requests, our hearts. Then he said to skip a line so that we could write God’s response back to us.

Now I don’t know about you, but the idea of writing down the words of God seems like a lofty job to me now, but somehow little 11-year old Sarah attempted. They told us that Satan doesn’t tell us good things, so just write out what we saw as the heart of God for us.

Now let’s jump forward to that evening. We were in INTENSE worship that night. Like these people worshipped hard. Worship like I had never seen. Screaming, weeping, INTENSE worship. I was stalled. I was stuck. I was SO FRUSTRATED that everyone was connecting to the heart of God but me. I took all of this out on my poor journal. I wrote about how terrible I was. I remember writing that I was ugly.

A girl walked over to me and took me by the wrist and pulled me outside. She told me that she felt like God wanted her to talk to me. Now let me make this clear: I don’t know this girl AT ALL. It’s the second day of camp. She goes on to “read my mail.” She told me a truth for every single lie the enemy had planted. She told me God thought I was beautiful. I awkwardly thanked her, went back in, and picked up my journal. I just wrote, “She’s lying.”

Not 5 minutes later, she rather aggressively dragged me out. She didn’t play nice this time. She said, “Apparently you didn’t hear me.” She went on to reiterate everything she had already said. I broke down.

Now I tell this story to, yes, in a way tell you a form of worship journaling, but also tell you that if you long to connect with God, he will connect with you, and trust me, He wants it even more than you do.

The one thing that gets people deep into the heart of God is a willing heart. God longs to connect with you. I have only in the past year become a mother, and I cannot even process what it would look like to not connect with Mo (my son) on a daily basis. The Lord LONGS for it. A girl I once knew told me once that we look at God as this high and mighty ruler who always has his eye on us like an untrusting ruler waiting to smite us, but in reality, God cannot take His eyes off of us because we are his prize.

If you want to create something to present to the Lord know that if your heart behind it is pure, it will be cherished. I am a perfectionist. I find issues with even my favorite painting I’ve done, and every time I sing in worship I wince. However, God’s PERFECT eyes look on me with contentment because I am his child. Even though I am in no way perfect, and in my eyes, my art doesn’t even belong on a refrigerator, the Lord cherishes it.

Whatever you create this year will be wonderful. Know that.


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