Growing in Creativity Not Consumption

The weeks before Thanksgiving mark the unofficial launch of what retailers call “the holiday shopping season.” Ads flood our feeds, emails overflow with deals, and the pressure to buy builds with each passing day. But what if this year looked different? What if instead of measuring the season by what we acquire, we measured it by what we create?

When my Silhouette Cameo 4 finally gave out after years of faithful service, I faced a choice. The newest model, the Cameo 5, had already launched in September 2023, but I’d intentionally held back from upgrading. I knew those early releases come with bugs and growing pains. By the time my machine died, Silhouette had released the Cameo 5 Alpha, and I was able to purchase it debt-free without hesitation.

This wasn’t about having the latest gadget. It was about stewarding my initial investment in electronic die cutting. That investment included far more than the machine itself: the time and effort it took me to learn the software, purchasing svg files, creating my own content, and building a digital library to last years to come.

My journey to the Silhouette hadn’t been impulsive either. Prior to learning how to use it, I had outgrown Provocraft’s original Cricut, and when the newer models came out, I outgrew their software to the point I needed to switch machines because my skill sets and creative directions changed. My husband encouraged the switch because he saw a massive growth in my creative skill that he wanted to honor and encourage further growth. The move to Silhouette was thoughtful, driven by development rather than trend.

The decision reflected something deeper I’ve been learning: the difference between thoughtful investment and mindless consumption.

Breaking Free from Consumer Culture

I am not a brand ambassador. I am a Christ ambassador.

That distinction matters more than ever in a world that equates newness with value and purchasing with productivity. My creative journey isn’t defined by haul posts or endless product showcases. Instead, I’m choosing to find contentment in what I already own and rediscovering the potential in tools I’ve had all along.

Over the past year, I’ve invested in several online classes, not to fill my time, but to sharpen skills that advance the Gospel. Each course represented an intentional choice to grow in ability rather than simply grow my collection of supplies. The classes sit in my digital library, ready to be revisited, their value multiplying with each new application.

The Algorithm of Discontent

Whether you’re scrolling through YouTube or Instagram, the algorithm is designed for one thing: consumerism. It thrives on trends, comparisons, and the perpetual feeling that what you have isn’t quite enough. Watch one craft video and suddenly your feed overflows with must-have supplies, limited-edition releases, and creators unboxing their latest hauls.

It’s easy to fall into this never-ending cycle. The algorithm knows exactly how to trigger that spark of desire, that whisper of “maybe I need that too.” Before you know it, you’re three clicks away from checkout, convincing yourself that this purchase will finally unlock your creative potential. The entire feed becomes one big advertisement, where product-focused content drowns out the creative process itself. And that constant exposure reshapes how we think about our own work, making us question whether what we create is enough if we’re not using the newest, trendiest supplies.

Here’s the Truth

But here’s the truth we all know on some level: most of us already have our own craft stores in our houses. Drawers full of washi tape. Bins of stamps we’ve used once. Stacks of paper in every color imaginable. Digital files we downloaded and forgot about. Our art studio organization suffers under the weight of supplies we thought we needed but rarely use.

There is nothing inherently wrong with purchasing art supplies. The act of buying tools for our craft isn’t sinful or wasteful in itself. But over-consumption interferes with supply and demand in ways we don’t always consider. When we buy beyond what we’ll actually use, we’re not just cluttering our own spaces. We’re participating in a system that prioritizes constant production over thoughtful creation.

With intentionality, you too can overcome this cycle. It takes awareness, discipline, and a willingness to push back against what the algorithm tells you that you need.

A Confession About Intentional Purchases

Before I buy anything, I pray. Simple.

Here’s my confession: I like to treasure hunt. For months Michael’s had a clearance sale on a variety of items in the fine arts section. I purchased acrylic inks and watercolor paints, both of which connected directly to my watercolor classes for painting and mixed media art. The acrylic inks are perfect for calligraphy too.

As time went by, I kept returning to that clearance aisle. Week after week, the same Indian calligraphy set of ink samples sat on the shelf. I remember when I was little and my grandmother purchased a calligraphy pen set for me, special because it had cartridges of various colors. The memory tugged at my heart every time I saw that set sitting there.

But I have a problem with wanting every color in the set. When I saw that Indian calligraphy ink set week after week, I had to be honest with myself about my tendency. I already had acrylic inks that work beautifully for calligraphy. I didn’t need another set just because nostalgia whispered sweetly. Needless to say, I didn’t purchase the item.

Prayer changes everything. It creates space between impulse and action. It invites God into our decisions, even the small ones about art supplies. Sometimes the answer is yes, like with the acrylic ink that serves a clear purpose. Sometimes the answer is no, like with the calligraphy set that would feed a pattern I’m trying to break.

That’s the difference. Not abstaining from every purchase, but making purchases that serve a purpose. Buying with intention rather than buying because the deal was too good to pass up or because nostalgia whispers sweetly. Finding treasures that fit into an existing plan rather than creating new plans to justify the treasures we find.

Contentment doesn’t mean never buying anything. It means knowing why we’re buying it and how it will be used before we bring it home. And it means being willing to walk away when the Spirit nudges us toward restraint.

Learning from Experience

I’ve made purchases in the past that didn’t work out as I hoped. There’s no condemnation in that, just wisdom not to make the same mistake. Every creator has bought something that promised to revolutionize their work, only to have it sit unused or prove incompatible with their actual creative process.

These experiences aren’t failures. They’re teachers. They help us understand the difference between what looks appealing in someone else’s hands and what actually serves our unique calling and creative direction. They refine our ability to discern between genuine need and manufactured want.

And when we realize we didn’t need them? We can always gift them to someone who will find purpose in that tool or supply. What doesn’t serve our creative journey might be exactly what someone else needs to begin or continue theirs. There’s grace even in our missteps when we’re willing to pass along what we won’t use.

The goal isn’t perfection in every purchase decision. It’s growing in wisdom, learning to pause before clicking “buy,” and asking better questions each time.

Embracing Imperfection and Growth

Let me be clear about something: Prayerfully Sent isn’t a curated website for all my best work. Sure, I would like to feature the best of the best, but with all humbleness, grace, and simplicity, I am not a machine and I don’t have the ability of a robot. I will have imperfections in my work because embracing my humanity and growing in spiritual maturity matters more to me than showcasing unrealistic ideas of perfection in a world that is filled with imperfection.

I do not curate an unrealistic idea of perfection for views. When you realize that your creative gifts are unique, there is no need to copy others simply for views, clicks, and monetization. Your voice matters. Your style matters. Your particular way of seeing and creating matters because God made you distinct for a reason.

It is far more important to grow as an artist than to showcase only the perfect pieces. In my humble opinion, what’s the point of having the “perfect outside life” if the inside is struggling?

Seeing everyone’s curated ideas of what they deem as perfect prevented me from embracing my uniqueness, and this idea really hurts creatives more than helps them. Scripture reminds us in 1 Samuel 16:7 that “the Lord does not look at the things people look at. People look at the outward appearance, but the Lord looks at the heart.”We’re called to press on toward maturity, not curated perfection. In Philippians 3:12-14, Paul himself said he had not yet arrived but was pressing on toward the goal. Growth is the point. Becoming more like Christ is the goal. Not creating an image of flawlessness that leaves no room for the messy, beautiful work of transformation.

When we only show our best, we rob others of seeing the process. We perpetuate the lie that creativity should look effortless and that spiritual maturity means having it all together. But that’s not the Christian life. The Christian life is one of growing, stumbling, getting back up, and pressing forward with our eyes fixed on Jesus.

I’d rather show you the journey than pretend I’ve already arrived. I’d rather embrace my limitations and keep creating than wait until I’m “good enough” to share. Because the truth is, we’re all works in progress. And there’s something deeply freeing about acknowledging that.

The Gift of Time and Skill

Ministering the gift of traditional art takes time and effort to learn. Sketching, illustration, painting, sewing, fabric arts—these aren’t skills you acquire overnight or unlock with a single purchase. They require practice, patience, and the willingness to create imperfectly while you grow.

Consumer culture wants us to believe we can buy our way to competence. The right brush set, the perfect sketchbook, the premium fabric—surely these will transform us into the artists we long to be. But the truth is simpler and harder: growth comes through hours spent with pencil in hand, through failed attempts and lessons learned, through returning to the basics again and again until they become second nature.

The investment that matters most isn’t financial. It’s the investment of our time, our attention, and our willingness to develop the gifts God has given us. No amount of supplies can replace the slow, steady work of learning a craft.

We are all in different seasons of our lives. Some artists can post multiple times a day, week, and month. For others, not so much. Give yourself the time you need to minister to the Lord and yourself in your art studio. Don’t allow the systems that are set in place rob you of the much needed break you probably are in great need of. Your season matters. Your pace matters. Your need for rest matters. The pressure to produce constantly is not from God. He invites us to rhythms of work and rest, creating and abiding, doing and being.

What Scripture Says About Contentment

God’s Word offers us gentle guidance toward contentment, not condemnation for our struggles with it. These scripture reflections remind us of the peace and freedom found in being satisfied with what we have:

“Keep your life free from love of money, and be content with what you have, for he has said, ‘I will never leave you nor forsake you.'” (Hebrews 13:5)

“But godliness with contentment is great gain, for we brought nothing into the world, and we cannot take anything out of the world. But if we have food and clothing, with these we will be content.” (1 Timothy 6:6-8)

“Not that I am speaking of being in need, for I have learned in whatever situation I am to be content. I know how to be brought low, and I know how to abound. In any and every circumstance, I have learned the secret of facing plenty and hunger, abundance and need.” (Philippians 4:11-12)

“Better is a little with the fear of the Lord than great treasure and trouble with it.” (Proverbs 15:16)

These aren’t verses meant to make us feel guilty about our struggles. They’re invitations into a different way of living, one where our security rests in God’s faithfulness rather than our accumulation of things. They remind us that contentment is learned, not instantaneous, and that the journey toward it is one of grace.

The Trap of More

Consumer culture whispers a persistent lie: that we’re always one purchase away from finally having everything we need to start creating, serving, or becoming who we’re meant to be. Just one more stamp set. Just one more font bundle. Just one more planning system. The finish line of “enough” keeps moving further away.

But creativity doesn’t require the newest release. Ministry doesn’t demand the trendiest supplies. Whether you’re creating stationery and greeting cards or working on painting and mixed media projects, contentment certainly isn’t found in the next shopping cart.

What if we already have everything we need?

Gifts That Grow

My recent birthday illustrated this beautifully. Each of my family members invested in me and this journey, not with products to acquire, but with tools to learn and skills to develop. Their gifts reflected an understanding of what truly matters: growth over accumulation, experience over possession.

One gift did include something tangible: a travel art studio bag and accessories. But even this wasn’t about adding to a pile of supplies. It was about making creativity more accessible in the places I’m already spending time, particularly at the park with my children in their favorite environment. The gift removed barriers to creating, rather than simply adding to what I own.

That’s the heart of thoughtful stewardship. Not refusing every purchase, but asking whether it serves a purpose beyond the temporary thrill of newness.

Stewarding What We’ve Been Given

“Grow in Creativity Not Consumption” is a quote title in my gallery that captures this tension. It speaks to the heart of what I’m learning: that true creativity flourishes not in the abundance of things, but in the intentional use of what we’ve already been entrusted with.

This season, I’m choosing to celebrate creativity over consumption. To find joy in mastering the tools I have rather than acquiring ones I don’t need. To create with purpose rather than purchase out of impulse.

That doesn’t mean never buying anything. It means asking better questions before we do:

• Will this tool serve my calling or just clutter my space?
• Am I investing in growth or just feeding a habit?
• Can I steward this purchase as faithfully a year from now as I intend to today?

An Invitation

As we head into a season that glorifies consumption, I want to invite you to join me in something countercultural: growing in creativity instead.

Use what you have. Take that course you bought six months ago. Pull out the supplies gathering dust. Finish the project you started last year. Master the tools already in your hands.

Let’s build a creative practice rooted not in what we can afford to buy, but in what we’re faithful to steward. Not in keeping up with trends, but in using our gifts to point others to Christ.

Because at the end of the day, the world doesn’t need more consumers. It needs more creators who understand that their worth isn’t measured by what they own, but by how faithfully they use what they’ve been given.

---

In the Next blog publication: Creative Sabbatical

Creative Sabbatical: The Art of Choosing Presence Over Perfectionism & Performance

I’d love to hear your thoughts on this journey. Share your reflections over at Grace Notes and Brush Strokes, the artisan journal of Prayerfully Sent, where we explore the intersection of faith, creativity, and intentional living.

Blessings to you in the name of our Lord and Savior Jesus Christ,

Filed under: Artisan Journal, Scripture Reflections