Sometimes we get so caught up in what we think looks like a holy life. We see a holy life lived in pews, in proper words for our prayers, in using the “Christianeese,” and showing high knowledge of Scripture. We picture holiness as something polished; something structured, something that sounds impressive or looks disciplined from the outside.
These things can be beautiful; and they truly are. We should find Jesus in worship services and church, in Scripture, in prayer, and in all these remarkable aspects of holy living. There is something sacred about gathering with other believers, opening God’s Word, and lifting our voices in worship.
But I want to highlight the simplicity and beauty of living with Jesus flowing from all aspects of life.
How creating, laughing, dancing, daydreaming, and even the art of noticing can be holy living. My hope is that as you read, you begin to see that Jesus is all around. where there is joy and delight and when we ask Jesus to join us in our thoughts and endeavors, it becomes holy living.
Because holiness was never meant to be confined to a building.
It was never meant to exist only inside quiet sanctuaries, whispered prayers, or carefully structured devotionals — though those spaces are sacred and necessary. Holiness was always meant to spill into everyday moments. Into kitchens and sidewalks. Into laughter with friends and quiet drives home. Into messy desks, unfinished projects, and ordinary afternoons.
Sometimes we think holiness looks serious. Reserved. Quiet. Perfect.
But I wonder if holiness sometimes looks like paint-stained hands and a joyful heart.
Like singing loudly in the car when no one else is there.
Like noticing the way sunlight and shadows dance against the wall and whispering,
“Thank You, Jesus.”
There is something deeply sacred about delight.
Not shallow happiness, but deep, childlike joy that remembers God created beauty for us to enjoy. The God who designed sunsets and wildflowers and oceans did not create a dull world. He created color. Movement. Music. Texture. Wonder.
And when we stop long enough to notice ✨truly notice✨ we are participating in worship.
Noticing is holy.
Noticing the kindness of a stranger.
Noticing the rhythm of your breath.
Noticing the way God keeps showing up in small, quiet ways.
One of my favorite little things to do is something I call a color walk.
It is as simple as it sounds, but I pick a color for the day, usually one that brings me joy (yellow has been a favorite lately 💛). Then I go on a walk, slowly and intentionally, seeking anywhere I see that color and noticing the beauty it holds.
Sometimes it’s a flower tucked between cracks in the sidewalk. Sometimes it’s a painted door, a passing car, a piece of clothing, or sunlight hitting something just right. The shade of blue in the sky similar to that of the sidewalk chalk a child drew.
Every time I see that color, I pause.
I take a picture or a short video of whatever holds that color, not because the object itself is extraordinary, but because the act of noticing makes it feel sacred.
What started as a simple, creative idea became something deeper than I expected.
It became a practice of paying attention.
A practice of slowing down.
A practice of seeing the world the way a child might, full of wonder, curiosity, and delight.
And somewhere along the way, I realized something beautiful:
This, too, is holy living.
Because when I’m on a color walk, I’m not rushing.
I’m not distracted.
I’m not lost in worry about tomorrow.
Instead, I’m present.
Present to beauty.
Present to joy.
Present to the God who created color in the first place.
The same God who imagined yellow sunflowers, deep blue oceans, and soft pink sunsets that look like cotton candy is the God who delights when we notice His creation. When we slow down enough to see beauty, we are acknowledging the artistry of our Creator.
We are, in a quiet way, worshiping.
Not with songs or sermons — but with attention.
Noticing becomes gratitude.
Gratitude becomes worship.
Worship becomes joy.
And joy, real, deep joy; draws us closer to Jesus.
Color walks remind me that holiness doesn’t always look like sitting still with a Bible open (though that is sacred, too). Sometimes holiness looks like walking slowly down a sidewalk, camera in hand, whispering,
“Thank You, Jesus, for this color. For this moment. For this beauty.”
Sometimes holiness looks like delight.
And maybe holiness has always been about learning to see, truly see, the beauty God has placed all around us.
I think we sometimes separate joy from holiness as if joy is optional or sometimes incompatible with holiness. As if laughter is less spiritual than seriousness. But when you read the Gospels, you see a Savior who attended weddings, shared meals, told stories, and walked slowly enough to notice people along the way.
Jesus wasn’t distant from joy! He was surrounded by it. He was it. He is it.
And if Jesus is present where there is love, beauty, creativity, and delight, then maybe holiness isn’t about performing perfection. maybe it’s about living aware of His presence.
Maybe holiness looks like:
Laughing until your stomach hurts.
Creating something simply because it brings delight.
Dancing in your living room.
Dreaming about what God might do next.
Paying attention to the small miracles scattered throughout your day.
Because when Jesus is invited into those spaces, they become sacred ground.
Not because they look impressive.
Not because they sound spiritual.
But because He is there.
And that’s my hope for you — that you begin to see holiness not as pressure, but as presence.
That you stop waiting for perfect moments to feel close to God.
That you begin to notice Him in laughter.
In creativity.
In stillness.
In wonder.
Because Jesus is not just found in sermons or songs, He is found in the rhythm of everyday life.
Where there is joy.
Where there is delight.
Where there is gratitude.
There is holy living.