The First Pair.

I had plans. He had punchlines.

I'm a third-generation creative. My parents and grandparents are/were artists, and I've had some sort of creative tool in my hand since I was old enough to hold one. For well over a decade, I made my living as an artist and designer. If I had an idea that required learning a new skill or medium, I'd eagerly figure it out. There was always another idea that needed to be expressed, and usually immediately.

Creating was not only my happy place, it was where I went when things got hard. I created for peace, for distraction, for acceptance, for identity; for what I'd now argue are all the wrong reasons.

Then my life took an unexpected turn. I said "yes" to Jesus.

Not long after, I heard Him say it was time to quit my job. So I left my career, check. Then came the kind of request that belts you in the stomach: stop creating. Period.

I thought He was joking. He was not.

So I stopped. I thought the break was permanent; I mourned, grieved and figured out a new way of being. For four years, I didn't create anything. No new projects, no indulging the constant flow of ideas, no disappearing into making something when life got uncomfortable. For someone who had spent a lifetime doing exactly that, "hard" is an understatement.

Then, in the middle of it, I felt the Lord give me permission to make one thing: a thank-you gift for someone who had walked closely with me through what I now call "The Great Overhaul."

I had a plan, I was going to embroider Jesus on a jean jacket. Instead, I walked out of the store carrying a pair of linen overalls. As I made my way back to the car, wondering if I'd made the right choice, I heard four words that stopped me in my tracks:

"Yeah. Jesus. Over. Alls."

I laughed. Out loud. On the street. By myself. God is our Father, and it was the ultimate dad joke.

I went home and embroidered Jesus OverAlls® across the front of those overalls, similar to how you'll see it on our garments today. I gave the gift and thought that was the end of the story. 

But, about a year and a half later, with our third child due in just a few weeks, I felt the Lord ask me to turn that one pair into a company. So, once again, I said "yes."

After four years of creating nothing, He wasn't simply giving it back. I wasn't the same person picking up the pen. So much had been stripped away, cleaned out and put back in its proper place. I didn't need creating to give me peace or tell me who I was anymore, and suddenly, creating felt like what I imagine it was always meant to feel like: pure, unfiltered joy.

I got to play again. Only this time, I knew Who I was playing with. This was my first real lesson in obedience, and I will always be grateful that I listened and dove right in.

Here's to forever growing young in the Lord, and maybe even playing in a pair of OverAlls® while we do it.