When Words Won't Come: How Painting Helped Me Find My Voice
- Tonya Bruton
- Jul 10
- 5 min read
Updated: Jul 12
"I found I could say things with color and shapes that I couldn't say any other way—things I had no words for."— Georgia O'Keeffe
There have been seasons of my life when journaling came as naturally as breathing. I could fill pages with prayers, questions, gratitude, and the slow work God was doing in my heart.
Then there were seasons when the words simply wouldn't come.
Not because there wasn't anything to say.
Because there was too much.
Trauma has a way of doing that. Grief does too. Recovery. Mental illness. Healing. Sometimes the heart is carrying more than language can hold.
That's where painting quietly entered my life.
I didn't set out to become an artist. I wasn't searching for a new hobby or trying to discover some hidden talent. I was simply trying to survive another season of healing.
Painting gave my hands something to do while my heart caught its breath.
God Gives Different Gifts
One of the things I love about Scripture is that God doesn't value only preachers, teachers, or musicians. He delights in creativity.
When Moses was preparing the tabernacle, God chose a man named Bezalel and filled him with His Spirit.
"The Lord has filled Bezalel with the Spirit of God, giving him great wisdom, ability, and expertise in all kinds of crafts. He is a master craftsman, expert in working with gold, silver, and bronze. He is skilled in engraving and mounting gemstones and in carving wood. He is a master at every craft."Exodus 35:31–33 (NLT)
That passage has always fascinated me.
The first person in Scripture specifically described as being filled with the Spirit wasn't standing behind a pulpit.
He was making art.
Creativity matters because it reflects something about the Creator Himself.
My own journey with painting didn't begin in an art studio.
It began inside Touchstone Recovery Ranch in Hico, Texas.
It was my second inpatient stay for addiction and my first stay focused on mental health.
One afternoon, someone handed me a rock, a few paintbrushes, and some acrylic paint.
I painted that rock and sent it home to my family.
Then I painted another.
And then another.
At the time, I didn't realize I was doing much more than passing the hours.
Looking back now, I think God was gently introducing me to a new language.
When I couldn't explain what was happening inside me, color began speaking where words had failed.
"Painting gave my hands something to do while my heart caught its breath."
From there, painting quietly became part of my life.
Not because I thought I was good at it.
Because every time I picked up a brush, I left the table a little lighter than when I sat down.
A Summer I'll Always Carry With Me
Sometime after that first painted rock, something unexpected happened.
A dear friend came into my life and reminded me how to play again.
Not play as children define it, but the kind of freedom adults often forget exists. The freedom to make something simply because it brings joy. The freedom to experiment without worrying whether it would turn out "good enough." The freedom to create without fear of being misunderstood.
That summer became a season of murals, music, colors, laughter, and long conversations. We planted real sunflowers and watched them grow. We painted sunflowers on canvases, flower pots, rocks—just about anything that would hold paint.
We were like two children discovering the world for the first time.
Neither of us criticized the other's work. We celebrated it. If one of us got stuck, the other gently offered an idea and then stepped back, trusting the process. We experimented with mixed media, found objects, photography, and storytelling. Every project became an invitation to try something we had never done before.
One afternoon we wandered through a local park searching for smooth rocks to paint. Another day we covered canvases with colors that didn't belong together until somehow they did. Looking back, it wasn't about the paintings.
It was about becoming ourselves.
That friend inspired me to stop trying to paint like someone else and begin creating like me.
To find my own voice again.
To see who I was becoming instead of who I had been.
Those memories are woven into every canvas I paint today. They remind me that healing isn't only found in counseling offices or recovery meetings. Sometimes it grows quietly in a garden beside a row of sunflowers. Sometimes it begins with a handful of rocks gathered from a park. Sometimes it arrives in the company of someone who simply believes you can create something beautiful.
That summer lives on in my art.
And I hope, in some small way, it always will.
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If You're Ready to Pick Up a Paintbrush
People ask me all the time what I use to paint. The truth is, you don't need expensive supplies to begin. Most of my favorite projects started with simple acrylic paint, inexpensive brushes, and a canvas from the craft aisle.
If painting has been on your heart, maybe this is your sign to begin.
Some of my favorite supplies:
🎨 Acrylic Paint Set These vibrant colors and brushes will give your art a beautiful boost! [https://amzn.to/4fuFXqo]
🖊️ Acrylic Paint Pens These have become one of my favorite tools for adding details, lettering, and outlines. [https://amzn.to/3TtMtFb]
🖤 Black Canvases Painting on black canvas completely changed my style. [https://amzn.to/4fvNG7u]
🤍 Traditional White Canvases I'm really excited to start some painting projects with these canvases! [https://amzn.to/3STIbHe]
🪨 Rock Painting Kit This brings back so many memories from Touchstone Recovery Ranch.[https://amzn.to/4wtDvGc]
🎨 Paint Palette [https://amzn.to/44oNEIo]
🧺 Artist Apron Optional...unless you're as messy as I am. [https://amzn.to/4vWcZp4
✨ Stencils Great for backgrounds, scripture verses, and mixed media. [https://amzn.to/3TeKfcN]
🖍️ Adult Coloring Books Perfect for your daily quiet time, this coloring book is calming and uplifting! [https://amzn.to/4aQ8Pqy]
Creativity Is for Everyone
One thing painting has taught me is that creativity isn't reserved for artists.
It's part of being human.
You don't have to paint sunflowers.
Maybe you crochet or perhaps you garden.
Maybe you bake sourdough, restore old furniture, build birdhouses, write poetry, play guitar, or arrange flowers.
God designed every one of us differently.
Your creativity won't look like mine.
It isn't supposed to.
"Creativity isn't about making something perfect. It's about making room for the part of you God is still restoring."
More Than a Hobby
When I look around my home now, I don't just see paintings.
I see chapters.
The rock I painted in rehab.
The sunflower from that unforgettable summer.
The canvas Josh proudly hung on the wall.
The afternoons Noah and I spent painting together and the look on Thea's face when she realized a blank canvas wasn't something to fear—it was something to explore.
Every piece tells part of the story God has been writing in my life.
None of them are masterpieces.
Every one of them is precious to me.
If You Feel Stuck...
Maybe you've been trying to write in a journal, and the words won't come or carrying grief you can't explain.
Maybe recovery feels exhausting or you've simply forgotten what it feels like to enjoy something.
Buy the cheap paint. Pick up the brush. Color the page. Plant the sunflower. Paint the rock.
You might be surprised what God begins restoring while your hands are busy.
I'd Love to Hear From You
Do you have a creative outlet that helps you slow down or reconnect with God?
Leave a comment below and tell me what it is. Whether it's painting, woodworking, quilting, gardening, photography, music, or something completely different, I'd love to hear your story.
And if this post encouraged you, would you share it with someone who might need permission to create again?
Awesome 😎