Someone recently asked me what my favorite tangible thing is. It gave me pause, because I don’t think I’ve stopped to wonder over that question, but the answer was clear. My pink journaling Bible.
It’s hard to explain, but my pink art journaling Bible isn’t just a book to me—it’s the place where my life with God has actually taken shape in a visible, tangible way.
Every page holds more than printed words. It holds prayers I’ve prayed when I didn’t have the strength to say them out loud. It holds questions I’ve wrestled through, verses that steadied me, and moments where something finally “clicked” and I knew God was speaking to me personally. The notes, the colors, the artwork—they’re not decoration. They’re a record of relationship.
Over time, it’s become a kind of memorial. I can flip back and see where I was struggling, where I was growing, and how God met me in those exact places. It reminds me that He’s been faithful, not just in general, but to me—specifically, consistently, and patiently.
It’s also one of the few places where I’ve been completely honest. No performance, no editing—just me showing up as I am. That makes it deeply personal in a way that’s hard to replicate anywhere else.
So when I say it’s my favorite tangible object, it’s not about the Bible itself being pink or artistic—it’s because it carries the history of my walk with God. It’s worn in all the right ways. It’s lived in. And it reminds me who He is, and who I am in Him.
Choosing Hope 