Watercolors, Friends, and Sacred Shenanigans

Because joy is better with snacks, friends, and a paintbrush

Hey y’all,

Okay, okay—I know this is a little late today, but listen: it’s been a week. Like, the kind of week where time stops making sense, your inbox becomes a suggestion, and you find yourself having theological debates with a puppet named Pickles. I meant to get this out on time, but between VBS chaos, dishwashing marathons, and a few much-needed giggles with my quilt crew, let’s just say the Holy Spirit took the wheel—and also the calendar.

This one’s short and sweet—like drinking milk straight from the carton while standing in front of the fridge in your underwear, knowing full well you are someone’s pastor. No judgment. In fact, that’s basically the mood of this entire post.

I just wanted to say hi, I’m alive, and I have not been abducted by rogue Vacation Bible Schoolers (although I did get told by a 6-year old tomatoes don’t belong in vegetable soup because they’re not veggies). VBS wrapped up on Friday, and I am equal parts exhausted, caffeinated, and spiritually glitter-bombed. The kids were wild in the best possible way, the volunteers were actual saints, and yes, I spent the week preaching the gospel of snacks and sacred silliness with a sandwich puppet named Pickles.

Pickles watching the kids play on the front lawn of the church.

Between puppet skits, kitchen chaos, and more dishwashing than should be legally allowed in church ministry, I still managed to sneak in a little joy-for-me time. I got to hang with my quilty crew, which involved lots of belly-laughing, fabric fondling, and the usual lie we all tell ourselves: “I’m just going to look.” Y’all, I looked. I touched. And then I bought fabric (because life’s too short, right?!).

AND! I painted! With actual watercolors like a dainty, sun-dappled cottagecore gay on a personal retreat in a meadow (except in my friend’s studio, with snacks nearby, and lots of laughs). Just friends, brushes, some colors, and zero pressure to make anything “good.” Honestly? It felt like my brain exhaled. Scroll down to see some of what I made. Some of it’s cute! Some of it is...what we call “expressive.”

Getting a lesson in painting eggs!

Everyone knows I’m a “fungi” 😂🍄‍🟫

This one’s called: cottagecore gay with a box of watercolors and a dream.

No deep reflections today. No grief spirals or theological TED Talks. Just joy. Just me being a goofy little pastor-artist trying to keep my soul soft in a loud and hard world. Just a reminder that you’re allowed to make things just because it’s fun. You’re allowed to be tired and still tender. You’re allowed to laugh so hard you snort. You’re allowed to rest. You’re allowed to feel good.

In fact, I dare you to.

So here’s a little joy from my corner of the world to yours—sprinkled with fabric threads, smudged with paint, and maybe a little bit sticky from the popsicle I earned at the end of the week. (Cherry limeade. A classic.)

More soon—
James
🧵🎨🌈💋

Benediction of Pure, Unfiltered Joy

Friends,
Go forth from this moment like a kid on summer break—
sticky with sweetness, full of curiosity,
and absolutely unbothered by the mess you leave behind.

May your hands be busy making joy.
May your heart stay soft, like over-proofed dough.
May your laughter be loud enough to scare off despair.
And may the Spirit keep showing up in the weirdest, most wonderful ways—
in watercolor splotches, unexpected friendships,
and the quiet miracle of just being you.

Go in glitter, go in grace,
and for the love of carbs, don’t forget to hydrate.

Amen, and amen again.