“My kids are in their creation era,” I told someone recently. And honestly, I love it. These days, our home feels like a little studio. There’s always someone asking for paper, rummaging for crayons, or calling out, “Mommy, come and see what I made!”

We try to keep the mess contained, but there’s a quiet joy in watching their minds come alive. I’m here for it—all of it.

A few days ago, my son asked me for a sheet of paper. Just one. I handed it to him without thinking much of it. Then he looked up and said, “I’m going to make a bag.”

A bag?

He sat down and got to work. Crayons first, drawing patterns and decorating the paper like he had a vision in his head. A few minutes later, he asked for glue. “Do we have stick glue, Mommy?” That’s when I got pulled in.

I grabbed the hole puncher (or whatever it’s officially called), made a few holes, passed a string through them, and helped staple the edges.

And just like that, my boy had a bag.

He was so proud of it. The way his face lit up, you’d think he’d just built a rocket.

The next day, it was a ship.

No tutorial. No step-by-step video. Just an idea and some paper. A few folds here, a little tape there, and he had made himself a ship.

It made me think about the creation story—how God made the world from nothing. No tools. No supplies. Just His Word.

And somehow, He passed that spark down to us. That same creativity. That instinct to bring something to life with our hands or our words. It’s in us. Watching it unfold in my children feels like a sacred glimpse into something bigger.

Then came today’s project.

“Mommy, can I have more paper?”

“Sure,” I said. “What are we making this time?”

“I want to make a shoe.”

I paused. “A shoe?”

“Yes,” he nodded. “I want to wear it when we go out.”

That one made me laugh. Paper shoes? Outside?

But what struck me wasn’t the idea—it was the intention. He wasn’t just making things for the fun of it anymore. He had a reason. A plan. The bag was to hold things. The ship was meant to float, even if only in his imagination. And now, the shoes were meant to be worn.

It made me think of us. How we were made not just to exist, but to live with purpose. Everything God created has meaning. The trees, the stars, the oceans. Even the tiniest insects. They all serve a role. And when He made us, He had something specific in mind.

Just like my son had a purpose for those paper shoes, God had a purpose when He made you.

So there I was, watching this little boy proudly holding up his handmade shoes, already thinking about where he could wear them.

And in that moment, I was reminded—this is what it means to reflect our Creator.

To imagine.

To build.

To dream.

To create with meaning.

I pray my children never lose that sense of wonder and purpose. I hope they always know that their ideas matter. That their imagination was placed there by God for a reason.

And I pray the same for us too.

Because sometimes in the middle of everyday life, between errands, deadlines, and to-do lists, we forget. We forget that the One who made the stars also made us. And He didn’t make us by accident. He made us to walk in something (just like those little paper shoes).

I probably need to restock our paper supply soon. And maybe get a new glue stick or two.

But if these small, simple moments keep pointing me back to the Creator—the One who spoke galaxies into being and still sparks imagination in little hearts—I’ll keep saying yes.

Any day, every time!

Categories: My Devotionals, My lifestyle

Tags: Christian, Christian Living, Christianity, creative kids, creativity, Devotional, Faith, Intentional living, intentional parenting, made for a purpose, Motivation, Productivity, purpose, Reflections