So, it’s been a while.

Hi.

I’ve had a couple of ideas about what I should write here—reflections, lessons, words of encouragement—and now that I’m finally sitting down, all of it feels like it’s evaporated.

But here I am. It’s a Sunday night. My phone is far away from me, and I’ve got time. Just a while ago, I spiraled into a stretch of unkind thoughts, until my head ached and my neck stiffened. I wish I could say that was unusual for me. But the truth is, this kind of heaviness visits me more often than I’d like.

I don’t always know where it comes from. Sometimes I wonder if it’s a spiritual attack. Other times, I think it’s an old, wired-in habit I haven’t fully unlearned. Or maybe… it’s the artist in me wanting to create, but I’ve kept her quiet for too long. Like trying to seal up a bursting water tank with duct tape.

Anyway. That’s why I’m writing.

If you’ve made it this far, maybe you’ve felt this too—your mind restless, your heart cluttered—and you’re not sure why. Or maybe you’re not exactly sure what I’m talking about, but you’re a few paragraphs deep, so you might as well stay. Either way, here’s a chair for you. Wherever you are in life right now, sit with me. Let’s try to navigate this conundrum together.

A few days ago, I came across a random video on YouTube. The title pulled me in: “You’ve consumed enough. God wants you to start creating.”

Wow. That hit me hard.

It’s true. I’ve consumed more than enough of this world, and it’s made me miserable. And in comparison, I haven’t created much lately. It’s not because I’m lazy. I just haven’t made space for my art in this season. And when that happens… well, the artist in me suffers.

And on a spiritual level, I know this too: God has given me gifts meant to be used for His glory, not hidden away. My talents have a purpose, and they’re not just for me. When I bury them, I don’t just waste what God gave, I hurt myself in the process.

Maybe that’s why I’ve been feeling this way lately.

When I’m distracted by doom-scrolling and the constant updates of friends’ lives on Facebook and Instagram, it’s easy to numb the ache of not creating. But lately, I’ve been on a social media detox. Without the noise, the ache feels louder.

I guess tonight was the last straw. So I finally opened my laptop. I’m here, showing up in all my mess and rawness. And I already feel a little lighter, just letting this out.

Maybe I didn’t need answers tonight. Maybe I just needed room. Space. A little permission to feel, to write, to be still. So maybe the artist theory was right, after all. Who knows?

But if you’ve felt like this too—tight inside your own thoughts, full of something you can’t even name—then maybe this is your permission, too:

Create something.

Don’t hide your rough drafts. Polish them and let them breathe in the world. Someone out there needs the words you carry. Someone needs your encouragement.

We live in a broken, tired world. Let’s make it a little more whole with our art.

“As every man hath received the gift, even so minister the same one to another, as good stewards of the manifold grace of God.”

1 Peter 4:10 (KJV)