Hello, Pumpkin.

Inspired by the Gathered Grace watercolor card, “Hello, Pumpkin.”

A Little Piece of History

Pumpkins have been cultivated in North America for thousands of years. Long before they became porch decorations and symbols of autumn, Indigenous peoples grew varieties of squash as an important source of food. Their ability to be stored through colder months made them especially valuable when the growing season ended.

Perhaps that is part of what makes the pumpkin such a fitting picture of autumn. It arrives at a point of transition, when fields are being emptied, daylight is shortening, and creation itself seems to whisper that change does not mean God has stopped providing.

Devotional

There is something beautiful about a collection of pumpkins that don't quite match.

Some are round. Some lean. Some are deeply ridged. Some are pale, some bright, some perfectly imperfect.

And still, gathered together, they belong.

Our lives have seasons like that too.

Some seasons arrive exactly as we imagined. Others look nothing like the picture we had carefully painted in our minds. There are seasons of abundance and seasons of waiting. Seasons when prayers are answered quickly and others when God seems to be working beneath the soil, somewhere we cannot yet see.

Ecclesiastes reminds us that God has appointed a time for everything.

That means we don't have to force every season to look like the one before it.

Autumn doesn't apologize because it isn't spring.

The trees don't cling desperately to every leaf because they are afraid another one will never grow. Creation simply moves according to the rhythm its Creator established.

And perhaps there is an invitation for us there.

Receive the season you're in.

Not because everything about it is easy. Not because you understand everything God is doing. But because the God who cared for you in yesterday's season has not changed with the calendar.

Maybe today you are flourishing.

Maybe you're waiting.

Maybe something familiar is ending.

Or maybe, after a long difficult stretch, you're beginning to notice tiny signs of something new.

Whatever your season looks like, you are still being held by the same faithful God.

So when life changes color around you, you can greet the season with open hands:

Hello, Lord. I'm here.

Show me what You are growing in this season.

A Little Grace to Gather 🍂

What would change if, instead of wishing for a different season, you asked God how He wants to meet you in this one?

Scripture

“For everything there is a season, a time for every activity under heaven.”
Ecclesiastes 3:1, NLT

Prayer

Father, thank You for remaining constant through every changing season of my life. When I am tempted to rush ahead or hold tightly to what has passed, help me trust Your timing. Open my eyes to the grace You have placed in this season, even in places I did not expect to find it. Teach me to receive today with gratitude and to trust You with whatever comes next. Amen.

From the Gathered Grace Journal, where a little watercolor becomes a place to gather a little more. 🌿

Every Window tells a Story

Inspired by the Gathered Grace watercolor card, “Every Window Tells a Story.”

A Little Piece of History

For generations, windows have quietly watched life happen. They have let morning light spill into rooms, offered a glimpse of the world beyond the walls, and stood as silent witnesses to countless ordinary moments.

With age, a window changes. Wood weathers. Paint wears thin. Glass develops little imperfections. The stone around it carries evidence of years of rain, wind, summer heat, and winter cold.

Those marks do not necessarily diminish its beauty.

They tell us it endured.

Something happened here.

There is a story behind that glass.

Devotional

Imagine if the windows of your life could remember everything they had seen. Some would hold laughter, celebrations, and ordinary days we never knew we would miss. Others would remember tearful goodbyes, disappointment, whispered prayers, forgiveness, and nights when no one else knew how much we were hurting.

There are chapters we would gladly leave uncovered and others that make us want to pull the curtains closed. Yet God knows every room. He sees our joy and pain, our stumbles and growth, our long waits, and every moment when we wondered what He was doing.

Our story is not finished.

Scripture shows us that God works through imperfect people, painful circumstances, and lives that are anything but polished. Our broken places do not stop Him. Sometimes they become exactly where His light gets in.

Psalm 119 describes God’s Word as a lamp for our feet and a light for our path. A lamp does not illuminate the entire road; it gives enough light for the step ahead.

We do not have to understand the whole story or know how this chapter will end. We can trust God with the next page.

Look again at the flowers growing beneath the weathered window. Their beauty does not erase what the wood and stone have endured. It shows that something beautiful can still grow there.

Grace can do the same in our lives. God does not need to erase our stories to redeem them; He can grow beauty right where the story happened.

A Little Grace to Gather

Think about one chapter of your life you once wished you could erase.

How has God used that chapter to shape you, strengthen you, redirect you, or bring you closer to Him?

And if you are still living somewhere in the middle of that chapter, consider one quieter question:

What would it look like to trust God with just the next step?

Scripture

“Your word is a lamp to guide my feet and a light for my path.”
Psalm 119:105

Prayer

Father, You know every chapter of my story, including the ones I still do not understand. Thank You that my mistakes, disappointments, scars, and difficult seasons are never beyond Your power to redeem. When the road ahead is unclear, give me enough light for the next step. Help me trust that You are still at work, still bringing beauty from unexpected places, and still writing my story with grace.

Amen.

Courage, Dear Heart.

Inspired by the Gathered Grace watercolor card, “Courage, Dear Heart.”

A Little Piece of History

When L. Frank Baum published The Wonderful Wizard of Oz in 1900, he introduced readers to a rather unusual King of Beasts: a lion convinced he had no courage at all.

But Baum tucked something beautiful into the Lion’s story. Long before the Wizard supposedly gives him courage, the Lion is already practicing it. He stays beside his friends. He faces danger. He keeps traveling the road even while admitting that he is afraid.

The Lion spends much of his journey looking for something his actions have already begun to reveal: courage isn’t the absence of fear. It’s choosing to move forward in spite of it.

Devotional

Maybe that’s why the Cowardly Lion feels so familiar.

We sometimes imagine courageous faith looks fearless. If we really trusted God, surely we wouldn’t worry. Our hands wouldn’t shake. We wouldn’t lie awake wondering how everything is going to work out.

But Psalm 27 gives us a different picture of courage: “Wait patiently for the LORD. Be brave and courageous.”

Sometimes waiting requires more courage than moving.

It takes courage to keep praying when the answer hasn’t come. To remain faithful when the road ahead disappears around the bend. To whisper, “Lord, I don’t know what You’re doing, but I’m still following You.”

Look at that little lion sitting along the yellow road. The destination may be visible in the distance, but there is still quite a journey between where he is and where he’s going. Maybe you’re somewhere along that road too. You can see what you’ve been praying for, or perhaps you can’t see it at all.

Either way, God isn’t asking you to manufacture enough courage for the entire journey today. He’s asking you to trust Him with this part of the road.

So if your heart is pounding, take the step anyway. If you’re still waiting, keep praying. If you’re afraid, reach for His hand.

Courage, dear heart. The Lord is already on the road with you.

A Little Something to Gather

Where are you waiting on God right now? Have you mistaken feeling afraid for lacking faith?

Today, instead of asking God to remove every fear, try praying, “Lord, give me the courage to trust You while I wait.”

Scripture

“Wait patiently for the LORD. Be brave and courageous. Yes, wait patiently for the LORD.”
Psalm 27:14, NLT

Prayer

Lord, when the road feels long and my heart feels afraid, help me remember that courage doesn’t mean having everything figured out. Give me the strength to trust You while I wait and the faith to take the next step, knowing You are already there. Amen.

Take Heart, Dear One.

Inspired by the Gathered Grace watercolor card, “Strength for Every Step.”

A Little Piece of History

Before L. Frank Baum became known as the author of The Wonderful Wizard of Oz, he experienced several discouraging chapters of his own.

Baum and his family moved to Aberdeen, South Dakota, in 1888. While living there, he opened a department store called Baum’s Bazaar. When the store failed, he became the editor of the Aberdeen Saturday Pioneer. That venture failed as well, and in 1891, Baum and his family left South Dakota for Chicago.

At the time, those years may have looked like little more than a string of disappointments. Yet failure did not have the final word over Baum’s story. He continued writing, and in 1900, The Wonderful Wizard of Oz was published. The book became an immediate success and eventually grew into one of America’s most enduring fairy tales.

The road that appeared to be leading Baum nowhere was not the end of his journey. There were still pages waiting to be written.

Devotional

We often assume that if God is leading us, the road before us should be clear. Doors should open. Plans should succeed. The next step should make sense.

But sometimes the road God allows us to travel looks nothing like the one we would have chosen. It carries us through disappointment, uncertainty, closed doors, and seasons when our prayers seem to be met with silence. We begin to wonder whether we misunderstood God—or whether the difficult chapter in front of us has somehow become the conclusion of our story.

Yet Scripture does not tell us to take heart because every circumstance will immediately improve. It tells us to take heart because our hope rests in the Lord.

God sees beyond the stretch of road visible beneath our feet. He knows how one season is preparing us for another. He can use disappointments to redirect us, delays to deepen us, and even apparent failures to lead us toward work we could not yet imagine.

Taking heart does not mean pretending that the journey is easy. It means choosing to believe that God remains faithful when the road is difficult. It means placing one foot in front of the other, trusting that the One who called us forward already knows where the road leads.

Perhaps the chapter you are walking through feels unfinished—or even unsuccessful. But what looks like an ending from where you stand may simply be a turning in the road.

Dear one, be strong and take heart. God is still writing your story, and He is not finished yet.

A Little Something to Gather

Is there a disappointment or closed door you have mistakenly viewed as the end of your story?

This week, write it down and offer it back to God. Ask Him to strengthen your heart and help you take the next faithful step—even if you cannot yet see where it will lead.

Scripture

“So be strong and courageous, all you who put your hope in the Lord.”

—Psalm 31:24 NLT

Prayer

Lord, strengthen my heart when the road ahead feels uncertain. Help me trust that You are present in every unfinished chapter and that nothing placed in Your hands is wasted. Give me courage to release my disappointments, place my hope in You, and take the next faithful step. Amen.

World’s Best Teacher

Inspired by the Gathered Grace watercolor card, “Coloring Bright Futures”

A Little Piece of History

Imagine walking into an American schoolroom in the 1800s. There are no brightly colored folders waiting on the desks, no endless supply of notebooks, mechanical pencils or freshly sharpened boxes of No. 2s.

For many schoolchildren, there was simply a small slate and a slate pencil. Before inexpensive paper became widely available, students commonly practiced their lessons on individual slate boards. They wrote their letters, worked their arithmetic and practiced their penmanship. The teacher checked their work, and when the lesson was finished, the slate was wiped clean and used again.

There is something about that image I love: a child learning something new, making a mistake, having it corrected, wiping the slate clean and trying again.

Because isn't that what learning requires?

Not perfection. A willingness to be taught.

Devotional

When I painted the colorful pencils for a card I titled Coloring Bright Futures, I was thinking about the teachers who pour so much of themselves into their students. The ones who explain something for the fifth time because maybe this will be the time it finally clicks. The ones who recognize potential hiding beneath frustration and celebrate the wobbly first attempt instead of waiting for the polished final result.

A good teacher doesn't expect a student to know everything before entering the classroom. That's why they're there.

And somewhere in the middle of painting all those pencils, I found myself thinking about another Teacher.

When it comes to following Jesus, how often do we expect ourselves to have already mastered the lesson? We think we should have more patience by now. We shouldn't still struggle with that. We should trust God more. We should know Scripture better. We certainly shouldn't have made that same mistake again.

Somewhere along the way, discipleship can begin to feel less like learning from a Teacher and more like desperately trying to earn a passing grade.

But Jesus didn't call His followers graduates. He called them disciples.

Learners.

Peter didn't understand every lesson the first time. Neither did Thomas. Neither did Martha. The people who walked beside Jesus asked questions, misunderstood, received correction, stumbled and continued following.

And neither do we understand everything the first time.

Maybe that's why that old schoolhouse slate is such a beautiful picture of grace. Write. Learn. Correct. Erase. Begin again.

Except the grace Jesus offers goes much deeper than wiping chalk from a slate. When we confess our sin, He forgives. When we wander, He calls us back. When we don't understand, His Word continues teaching us. And when we fall, He doesn't toss us out of the classroom.

He keeps teaching.

Perhaps one of the most freeing things we can say to God is simply, “Lord, I don't know how to do this yet. Teach me.”

Teach me how to forgive. Teach me how to wait. Teach me how to trust You when I can't see what You're doing. Teach me how to speak with kindness when I'm frustrated. Teach me how to recognize Your voice. Teach me how to surrender the things I keep trying to control.

A teachable heart requires humility because it admits there is still something to learn.

Maybe spiritual maturity isn't reaching the point where we no longer need instruction. Maybe maturity is realizing just how much we still need our Teacher.

A Little Something to Gather

Think about something you're struggling with right now. Instead of asking only, “God, why is this happening?” try asking, “Lord, what are You teaching me here?”

And then consider the harder question: Am I willing to be taught if His lesson is different from the answer I was hoping for?

Perhaps today isn't a test you're failing.

Perhaps you're still in the lesson.

Pick up the pencil. There's more to learn.

Scripture

“Show me the right path, O Lord; point out the road for me to follow. Lead me by your truth and teach me, for you are the God who saves me. All day long I put my hope in You.”
Psalm 25:4–5, NLT

David doesn't pray, “Lord, look how much I already know.” He asks God to show him, lead him and teach him.

That is the posture of a disciple.

Prayer

Father, thank You for never growing tired of teaching me. There are lessons I haven't understood the first time, mistakes I've repeated, places where I've been stubborn and moments when I've wanted You to change my circumstances more than I've wanted You to change me.

Give me a teachable heart. When I don't understand, teach me. When I am impatient, teach me to wait. When fear gets louder than faith, teach me to trust. When I get something wrong, give me the humility to receive Your correction and the courage to begin again.

Thank You that Your grace doesn't require me to enter the classroom already knowing everything. I am still learning. Keep shaping me, correcting me, encouraging me and drawing me closer to You.

You are my Teacher, and I still have so much to learn.

Amen.

It All Begins with Grace.

Welcome to the Gathered Grace Journal, a place where watercolor, history, faith, and the little pieces of everyday life come together.

There is something about a blank piece of watercolor paper that has always fascinated me.

At first, there is nothing there.

Just white space.

Then comes water. A little pigment. A brushstroke that doesn't always travel exactly where I intended it to go. One color wanders into another. Sometimes the water creates an edge I hadn't planned. Sometimes a color dries lighter than I expected. And every once in a while, what looked like a mistake becomes my favorite part of the entire painting.

Little by little, something begins to appear.

Perhaps that is one of the reasons watercolor has captured my heart.

It reminds me so much of grace.

Grace has a way of meeting us in unfinished places.

It finds us in the parts of our lives that don't look quite the way we imagined they would. It enters the mess, the uncertainty, the waiting, the mistakes and the ordinary moments, and somehow God begins creating something beautiful there.

Not always instantly.

Not always in the way we expected.

But brushstroke by brushstroke.

Piece by piece.

Grace gathers.

The Story Behind the Journal

Gathered Grace Collective began with a love for creating.

I paint small watercolor scenes, often on greeting cards, inspired by the things we encounter in everyday life: fruit gathered together, pumpkins in autumn, sheep standing quietly in a field, flowers, roads, farm scenes, changing seasons and all sorts of ordinary little things.

But somewhere along the way, I began realizing that these paintings were making me think about something beyond what was on the paper.

A blueberry wasn't simply a blueberry anymore.

An orange wasn't simply an orange.

A road could make me think about faith and the uncertainty of not knowing what waits around the next bend.

A sheep could remind me of the Shepherd who knows His own.

A collection of tiny berries could make me think about how easily we overlook God's smallest provisions while waiting for something enormous.

And then, one morning, an idea came.

Actually, it came at about 4:30 in the morning.

Because apparently inspiration does not always respect normal business hours.

I woke with the thought:

What if the watercolor paintings became devotionals?

What if every little scene had a story?

What if we could take something ordinary, discover a piece of history connected to it, open Scripture together and see what God might teach us through something we otherwise would have walked right past?

And with that thought, the idea for this journal began.

Why History?

If you spend much time here, you'll discover something about me rather quickly:

I love history.

I love discovering the stories behind ordinary things.

I love wondering how people lived generations ago, what they endured, what brought them joy, what they created with their hands and what they trusted God for when life became difficult.

History reminds us that we aren't the first people to wait.

We aren't the first people to struggle.

We aren't the first people to wonder what God is doing.

And we certainly aren't the first people to discover His faithfulness in unexpected places.

Sometimes an ordinary object sitting in front of us carries generations of stories we have simply forgotten.

An orange, for example, is something most of us can pick up at the grocery store without much thought. But there was a time when receiving an orange at Christmas was an extraordinary treat for a child.

A handmade quilt can be beautiful hanging on a wall, but quilts also carry stories of necessity, family, resourcefulness and pieces of fabric carefully saved because nothing could afford to be wasted.

A field, a barn, a flower, a road, a cup of tea, a loaf of bread...

Ordinary things have stories.

And sometimes those stories help us see an old truth with new eyes.

That's what I hope to gather here.

Watercolor, History & the Word

The devotionals you'll find in the Gathered Grace Journal will often begin with one of my original watercolor paintings.

From there, we'll wander backward.

We'll uncover a true piece of history connected with the subject of the painting. Sometimes it may come from American history. Sometimes we may travel much farther back. Sometimes the story may be connected to an ordinary household object, a tradition, a person, a place or a moment nearly forgotten.

Then we'll bring that story alongside Scripture.

Not because history replaces God's Word.

Quite the opposite.

Scripture is the anchor.

History simply gives us another window through which to look.

And perhaps, somewhere between an old story, a watercolor painting and an ancient passage of Scripture, we'll recognize something about our own lives.

Gathering the Little Things

The name Gathered Grace has become increasingly meaningful to me.

Because isn't that so often how we experience God's goodness?

We want the whole picture.

God often gives us a piece.

We want the complete answer.

He gives us enough light for the next step.

We want tomorrow's provision.

He places today's bread in our hands.

And sometimes we don't recognize just how much grace surrounds us until we begin gathering those pieces together.

A conversation.

An answered prayer.

A beautiful morning.

An unexpected opportunity.

A lesson learned through disappointment.

Someone showing kindness at exactly the right moment.

Strength we didn't know we had until we needed it.

A Scripture we've read twenty times suddenly speaking directly into the twenty-first.

One piece may not seem remarkable.

But gathered together?

We begin to see the faithfulness of God woven throughout an entire life.

A Little Something to Gather

That is why you'll see a section in these devotionals called A Little Something to Gather.

It will be an invitation to linger for a moment.

To ask a question.

To consider an application.

To notice something.

Because I don't want these devotionals simply to be something we read, nod at and forget five minutes later.

I want us to gather something from them.

Something to carry into the day.

Something to pray about.

Something to remember.

Maybe even something that changes the way we look at an ordinary object the next time we encounter it.

It All Begins with Grace

Maybe you're here because you enjoy watercolor.

Maybe you stumbled across one of my cards.

Maybe you love history as much as I do.

Maybe you're looking for a devotional.

Or perhaps you arrived here carrying questions, disappointment, hope, exhaustion, excitement or some complicated mixture of all of them.

Wherever you're coming from, you're welcome here.

You don't have to have everything figured out.

Neither do I.

We are simply going to gather.

We'll gather stories from yesterday.

We'll gather beauty from ordinary things.

We'll gather wisdom from Scripture.

We'll gather reminders of God's faithfulness.

And along the way, I hope we'll become a little better at recognizing the grace that was already surrounding us.

Because before the finished painting, there was a blank page.

Before the story was completed, there were unfinished chapters.

Before we understood what God was doing, there was trust.

And underneath all of it...

there was grace.

“For by grace you have been saved by faith. Nothing you did could ever earn this salvation, for it was the love gift from God that brought us to Christ.”
Ephesians 2:8, TPT

Welcome to the Gathered Grace Journal.

I'm glad you're here.

Let's see what we can gather.

With grace,
Becky
Gathered Grace Collective