It was an ordinary run to the grocery store, or so I thought. There I was, standing next to a mound of stacked peppers in the produce section when I overheard two little kids, a whisper away, talking to each other. “My mother said you shouldn’t talk about God at school, because it makes people feel uncomfortable,” said the young voice to the other. I stood still, shaking my head, as I uttered, “Oh— no,” under my breath. Needless to say, I felt uncomfortable.

For the next several weeks, that conversation would not leave my mind or heart. In a world propelled by wonder, invention and advanced communication, could “God talk” eventually become extinct? It seemed to be an astonishing possibility. All I could do was pray about it, asking God to intervene.

Then, on a quiet Sunday morning, I began to write a story about a little girl named Emma, who visits an art museum and is so inspired by the works of Pablo Picasso that she decides that she is going to draw something “beyond spectacular.” Emma decides to draw God.

I remember tapping on my keyboard, just waiting to see what might happen next. I began typing…

Emma escapes to the comfort of her bedroom and draws a brilliant sun. “It was so dazzling and radiant my cheeks throbbed. Its rays were so long they poked at my heart.” Emma knew she had drawn God. The next day, Emma takes her drawing to school to show her best friend Peter. But Peter looked at Emma and said, “Emma, that’ s not God, that’s the sun.

Emma tries again and again to draw God, but her classmates can’t see God in any of her drawings. They actually find her attempts laughable.

Emma finally realizes, through a prayer answered, that she doesn’t need their approval. “I knew I had drawn God. God knew I had drawn God, and maybe Picasso knew, too. That finally felt like enough.

The story stopped there. But I remember feeling that urge to keep writing, because this wasn’t the end of the story.

Emma eventually returns to school on the following Monday, and something beyond spectacular happens. I won’t spoil the ending of the book, but when I finished writing, it was clear that if this story, if ever published, it might get more children and adults talking about and drawing God.

Fast-forward a few months, after some polishing, miraculously the story found a willing publisher in Paraclete Press. Over the course of the past year, I’ve worked closely with the publisher and Belgian illustrator, Kathy De Wit, who took the story and brought it to life with her simple and beautiful illustrations.

On Tuesday, October 8, 2019, the children’s picture book, “Drawing God” was released into the world. May it be a catalyst for more God talk and inspire children and adults of all faiths to connect their very own faith imagination, to realize the contagious faith that lives powerfully within and to embrace the truth that we all see God differently.

The release of the book is followed by the celebration of the first World Drawing God Day, on Thursday, November 7th. This day will be a chance for our world to “draw” God, whatever that might look like, using the hashtag: #drawinggod.

It’s true that books can’t necessarily change the world, but the people who read them can. To future readers of “Drawing God,”my hope is that this book will make you a little more comfortable, knowing that there will be a little more God talk in our world because of you.

World Drawing God Day is Monday, November 9th! This is a great chance for you and your children to use artistic creativity to express how you see God!  To celebrate the day, register for FREE online sessions with artists and educators, and more! Visit: www.drawing-god.com