A Journey to Quiet Creativity

I didn’t always know what I was searching for. I just knew that the way I was creating—rushing, pushing, constantly producing—left me feeling tired, distracted, and far from the peace I craved. I had lost touch with something sacred in the process.

I used to believe that creativity had to be visible to be valuable—that if it wasn’t shared, posted, or praised, it somehow didn’t count. I was always thinking about the “next thing,” always measuring my output by how well it performed. But deep down, I longed for something quieter. Something slower. Something more meaningful.

And so began my journey to Quiet Creativity.

Quiet Creativity as a practice didn’t arrive all at once. It came gently, in whispers and moments—a longing for soft light, warm tea, a Bible verse playing in the background while my hands moved in rhythm with the Spirit. It came through holy nudges that reminded me that I could slow down, that I should slow down. That my gift wasn’t given to be hurried—it was given to bring glory to the Giver.

So I started making space for quiet.

At first, it felt strange. Creating without a timer, without planning to post, without the pressure to perfect? It felt… rebellious in the best kind of way. But as I lit a candle, poured a cup of tea, and settled in with my yarn and hook, something happened. My spirit exhaled. My soul remembered.

I wasn’t creating for the world—I was creating for an Audience of One.

Now, the intentional practice of Quiet Creativity has become part of my life rhythm. It’s where I meet with God in the work of my hands. It’s where Scripture flows like thread through each stitch. It’s where I don’t just make—I become more grounded, more present, more whole. Quiet Creativity isn’t just about what I produce—it’s about how I show up: with peace, presence, and purpose.

My journey to Quiet Creativity is still unfolding. It’s a daily invitation to choose depth over display, stillness over striving. It’s not always easy, but it’s always worth it. If you’re tired, overwhelmed, or longing for more, maybe this is your invitation too.

To turn down the noise. To let go of the hustle. To find God not only in the outcome—but in every sacred, quiet step of your creative process.

Here’s to creating slowly, intentionally, and faithfully. Here’s to the journey. Here’s to Quiet Creativity.