What God Said When I Wrote "I'm Not Enough" in My Prayer Journal

Some mornings the prayer doesn't come out polished.

This morning mine started with: "Father God, I'm tired and feel no focus." Not poetic. Not Instagram-worthy. Just true.

If you've ever sat down with your journal and found yourself writing something embarrassingly raw to God... you're in exactly the right place.

The Question I'd Been Carrying

There's a particular kind of loss that doesn't come with a funeral, or a card, or a casserole on the doorstep.

It's the loss of who you used to be.

For 34 years, I was a Speech and Language Therapist. Highly specialist. I knew how to give people a voice when everything else had been taken from them. When the NHS said it couldn't afford an £8.99 app that might help a stroke survivor communicate... I'd find a way. I'd demonstrate it on my own iPad. I'd sit with the client's sister while she cried, and I'd show her what was possible. Because I cannot bear to see someone written off. I cannot bear to see anyone treated as though they have nothing left to say.

And then I stepped back from that role.

Grief came with it. Quiet, complicated grief. The kind where you think: if it's not my job anymore, maybe I can't do anything about it.

Maybe you know that feeling. Not necessarily about speech therapy. But about the thing you were brilliant at... the thing woven into your cells... that you've had to lay down. And you're sitting with this question: if that's not who I am anymore, then who am I?

I wrote that question in my journal this morning. And then I picked up a paintbrush.

What the Page Became

This is what I love about Christian art journaling. You bring what's real. You ask. And you let God speak into the space.

I didn't plan what ended up on the page. That's the whole point of the Spirit-Led Sketch Method. Prepare honestly. Ask openly. Doodle freely. Reflect on what comes.

I sketched the outline of a city, imperfect and rough, because the Scripture sitting with me was Joshua 6:16: "Shout! For the Lord has given you the city."

I drew 2 open hands in the centre. Surrendered hands. Tired hands. Hands that were saying: Lord, I give you this.

I wrote the word that had been in me all morning on the left side of the page. Tired. Body weary. Heart heavy. Soul stretched thin.

And on the right, the thing I was asking Him for. Focused. Eyes on what matters. Not distracted by the noise. Not derailed by comparison.

Then I laid on a wash of greens and pinks and gold, and let the colour move without overthinking it. I used scraps of collage paper left over from sessions with my Creative Sanctuary members. I didn't want to waste them. Beautiful, layered, imperfect... just like the prayer.

And across the middle, in my own imperfect lettering: SHOUT. That the Lord has given you the city.

It Might Not Be Your Job. But It's Your Work.

I was talking to my friend Sylvia ( from Links Across Borders : https://linksacrossborders.org/ ) recently. She's an educator who has built libraries in Ghana. One of those women who sees a need and simply gets on and meets it, quietly and powerfully.

I was telling her about the stroke survivor I'd recently visited through my Stroke Association work. A man with no means of communication. The NHS couldn't fund the app that might have helped him. £8.99. And the system said no.

So I brought my own iPad. I sat with his sister, who was deeply distressed. I demonstrated what was possible. And both times... it was clear. He could communicate. He just needed the means.

I said to Sylvia: "But it's not my job anymore. I'm not a speech therapist. I can't do anything about it."

She looked at me and said: "It might not be your job. But it's your work. It's what you've been put on earth for. To help people have a voice."

I've been sitting with that ever since.

Because the same is true for the art journaling. The same is true for Creative Sanctuary. And I wonder if the same is true for you.

Your calling doesn't expire when your job title changes.

Proverbs 16:3 says: "Commit to the Lord whatever you do, and He will establish your plans." And Proverbs 16:9: "We can make our plans, but the Lord determines our steps."

He didn't waste 34 years of speech therapy training. He didn't waste the grief of stepping back from it. And He is not wasting whatever season you find yourself in right now, however uncertain it feels.

The city has already been given. You just have to trust the steps He's establishing.

When God Answered Back

I turned the page.

And on the right side I'd started laying down acrylic inks. Red. Yellow. Bold, messy, uncontrolled.

And I stopped.

Because I looked at that red and thought: that looks like blood that was shed for me.

When I'm sitting there telling myself I'm not enough... I'm not good enough at this... other people's pages are more polished than mine... I need to remember what that cost. I need to remember what He gave so that I could sit at this table and make something.

And the yellow? That's glory. Out of the sacrifice comes glory. It looks like a mess on the page. But so does grace, sometimes.

I took a piece of vintage music manuscript, torn from an old hymn book, and I laid it across the centre. And on it, I wrote what God said to me in that quiet time:

You are enough. Because I made you more than enough. More than a conqueror.

Not because of my performance. Not because my art journaling pages are polished or my platform is impressive. Because of who made me.

And because of the price He paid to say so.

The Thing About Comparing Your Pages to Everyone Else's

Here's something I wrote in my prayer that keeps tripping me up, and I think it might trip you up too.

I sometimes think my art journaling needs to be perfect and impressive, like the work of people who are showing their art to sell.

But I'm not selling my art journaling.

I'm showing others that God can be present through the art. That He loves to show up right here, in the middle of the imperfect mess, while you're creating.

Your page doesn't need to be gallery-ready. It needs to be honest. The trembling, uncertain mark on the paper is exactly what God breathes into. The "SHOUT" you letter in your own imperfect handwriting across the page... that's the breakthrough.

One Thing to Try Today

Take one honest sentence. The thing you'd be embarrassed to say out loud. Write it at the top of a blank page.

Then write underneath it: "Lord, what are you saying to me?"

Wait. Doodle. Let your hand move. You don't need to be an artist. You just need to be willing to show up.

That's the Spirit-Led Sketch Method in one moment. Prepare honestly. Ask openly. Doodle freely. Reflect on what comes.

You Were Made for This

Whatever you've laid down. Whatever identity you're grieving. Whatever calling feels dormant or unclear right now...

God wastes nothing. Not one year of it. Not one tear of it.

Sylvia's words keep coming back to me: it's your work. Not your job. Your work. The thing you were put here for.

And whatever voice you carry, in whatever form it takes... someone needs to hear it.

Bring it to the page. Ask Him what it's for.

The city has already been given.

Now shout.

If this stirred something in you... if there's a prayer sitting in you that needs to get onto a page... Doodle with God is the gentlest possible first step. It's a 7-day creative devotional for exactly this kind of morning.

[Doodle with God — $7: https://creativesoulspace.com/quiet]

You don't need art skills. You don't need to have your faith together. You just need a blank page and a willingness to show up.

He'll take it from there.

You Were Never Meant to Carry This Alone

Other links

• Doodle with God offer page — https://creativesoulspace.com/quiet

And if you'd like a gentle daily creative practice to bring you back to yourself... Doodle with God is waiting for you. No skill needed, no special supplies — just you, a pen, and five quiet minutes with God.

P.S. Those who sign up to the workshop and attend live will get the accompanying workbook

A Space to Bring Your Whole Self

If your soul is quietly telling you that it needs more than another quiet time routine… that it needs space, rest, and a completely different kind of encounter with God…

I want to tell you about something I'm creating for a small group of women this September.

From the 25th to the 28th of September 2026, I'm hosting a luxury creative retreat on the Isle of Wight — three nights at a beautiful farm in Ryde, fully catered, with no agenda except to slow down and hear God again.

We'll spend our days art journaling, sketching, and exploring. We'll visit Osborne House — Queen Victoria's summer home on the island. She was herself a keen artist, and there's something quietly extraordinary about standing in the rooms where she created, as women who are finding their own creative voice.

My partner Adam will lead worship. My son Toby, a fine art photography student, will capture the retreat. Our chef Katrina Collins will feed us extraordinarily well.

It is intentionally small. Intentionally unhurried. Intentionally a space where your prayers don't need to be words.

If your heart lifted a little reading that — pay attention to that lift.

🔗 Find out more about the Isle of Wight Retreat here: creativesoulspace.com/retreat2026

And if you're not quite ready for a retreat but want to begin doodling with God today, start here: creativesoulspace.com/quiet — it's just $7 and it's the gentlest possible first step.

Come and find me at https://christianartjournaling.com/creative2026 ~ there's a whole community of women here who are finding their way back to God, one mark at a time.