Not Every Return Arrives in Dollars

Last week, I wrote about showing up anyway.

About how sometimes the lights are on, nobody is home, and God still meets us right there in the middle of it.

This week felt like the continuation of that lesson—but with a little more color, a little more curiosity, and a whole lot of tiny hands filled with quarters.

Because apparently showing up is only the beginning.

Sometimes the next step is slowing down long enough to notice what the moment is trying to give back to you.

A Little Creative Spark

After vacation, Liberty Fest, and back-to-back basketball weekends at Spooky Nook, most of this week felt like one long recovery blur.

By Thursday, though, something inside me started stirring.

Art Lady Brookie wanted to play.

I headed to my storage unit to investigate the acrylic paints I had packed away nearly two years ago. I wanted to see whether any of them were still usable—and whether there might still be a little magic waiting inside them.

Some of the paint was complete crap.

Some of it was surprisingly good.

So I mixed a few things together and played.

I liked what I created, and for a moment, I felt that familiar little spark of excitement.

Then my artist brain immediately did what it always does:

Okay, I know how to do this. What comes next?

What new medium can I test? What boundary can I push? What extra layer of magic can I add? How can I take something already beautiful and make it even more fabulous?

That is the part of creating I love most.

The first idea is rarely the final destination. It is simply an invitation to experiment, follow my curiosity, and discover what else might be hiding inside the process.

And if you want to see what that looked like in real time, head over to my TikTok and scroll back a few years. You’ll find all kinds of acrylic-pour creation videos—jellyfish, abstracts, experiments, happy accidents, and plenty of colorful messes that eventually became something beautiful.

It is such a fun little time capsule of that creative season, and honestly, watching those videos again is reminding me just how much I loved the process.

My dad is also finishing the gallery he has been creating in his basement with several of my large paint babies. 

I got to spend some time with him and go out to dinner this weekend after Spooky Nook, but afterwards I completely forgot to go downstairs in his basement to check out the finishing touches he was thrilled to report on!

Apparently my brain still has 47 tabs open, and I have no idea where the music's coming from 😜🤣

Once he finishes setting everything up, I cannot wait to go back, enjoy it properly, and take plenty of pictures to share with you.

Something feels like it's waking up creatively and I'm full of anticipation about where it might lead.

But first I needed to remember how to play whilst being a professional mess maker! 🤣😜🔥🌈🎉

Never Mind. We’re Going Bowling.

By Friday, I looked at the small amount of preparation I needed to do for Spooky Nook and decided:

Never mind. We’re going bowling.

So I took the kids, let the work wait, and enjoyed my Friday.

Sometimes joy does not need to be productive.

Sometimes it is enough to throw a bowling ball down a lane, laugh with your children, and let the rest of the world wait its turn.

Then Saturday arrived, along with the boys’ basketball national championship at Spooky Nook.

For the second weekend in a row, the lights were on—but nobody was home.

Still, I showed up.

And the children did what they always seem to do.

They pulled me fully into the moment.

The Sweetest Little Kitty Cat

The first little girl who climbed into my chair received every bit of love I had, even though I did not feel like I had much left to draw from.

I stayed present with her and let her giggles and squeals fuel me as she watched herself transform into the cutest little sparkly kitty cat.

Once the face painting was technically finished and her mom had already paid, I just kept loving on her anyway.

That is pretty much my standard operating procedure.

From a traditional business perspective, it probably makes no sense. I regularly give more time, attention, sparkles, conversation, and little extras than anyone purchased.

Some of my friends look at me like I am completely crazy.

But I cannot help myself.

I want people to feel the difference between being part of a transaction and being genuinely cared for.

Apparently, her mom felt it too, because she left me not one, but two beautiful reviews.

She shared how comfortable, excited, and loved her little girl felt. She described the experience as the kind of care only another mother could give.

Honestly, I could not have asked for a better review.

Watching that little girl light up when she saw herself as a kitty cat—and then reading her mother’s words afterward—felt like its own kind of return.

The Baby Spider-Man Negotiation

One of my favorite Sunday moments was with a barely two-year-old boy who wanted to be Spider-Man.

Now, I know how these things usually go. With toddlers, you have approximately three seconds before they are ready to see themselves, touch everything, escape the chair, or change the entire plan.

The first swipe of white around his eye was immediately smudged, so I tried redirecting him by painting Spider-Man eyes on his arm instead.

He looked at me, pointed firmly back to his face, and made it very clear—without using a single word—that I needed to finish what I started.

At this point, I consider myself something of a baby whisperer when it comes to face-paint magic.

I painted around one eye, showed him the mirror, and he was immediately offended that the other side was still blank.

So, working with a moving target, I grabbed my big red brush and created the fastest Spider-Man mask of my life.

The process involved web blasters on his wrists for distraction, lightning bolts up his arm, and eventually handing him the mirror with both hands so I could finish.

By the end, he was covered in Spider-Man magic—and his mom had managed to finish her entire açaí bowl without having to wrangle him for a few peaceful minutes.

Trying to photograph him afterward was another adventure because he wanted to see my screen, so naturally, we ended with a selfie.

Handfuls of Quarters and a Face Full of Jesus

As Sunday continued, the day became even more meaningful.

Financially, it was probably my quietest day ever at Spooky Nook. I barely made back my vendor fee.

Spiritually, though?

It became one of the sweetest.

Once I realized no sudden wave of customers was coming to change the day, I stopped fighting the stillness.

I sat.

I thought.

I laughed with Heather at the front desk, one of my beloved Sparkle Sisters, who even asked to wear my sparkly kitty-cat ears that weekend.

And then I did what God so often asks me to do.

I loved on the little ones.

One persistent boy kept coming over and asking for “crochet.”

After several confusing conversations, I finally realized he meant henna.

I gave him a little Jesus cross on his hand. He loved it—and then immediately smudged it off.

So I gave him another one.

Then, because I could tell he was bored after hanging around the tournament all weekend, I asked whether he wanted giant flames painted up his arm.

Naturally, the answer was yes.

They were huge, bold, and pretty badass.

A little while later, he returned with his younger sister, Gianna. She climbed into my chair, pointed to her face, and asked me to paint Jesus on it.

I offered her a cross.

“No,” she clarified. “I want Jesus’s face painted on my face.”

Her brother and I looked at each other, shrugged our shoulders, and silently agreed.

The girl knew what she wanted.

Since realistic portraits are not exactly my face-painting specialty, she happily accepted a giant rainbow explosion with rainbow eyeshadow instead.

She stared at herself in the mirror, telling me how beautiful she felt and what a wonderful artist I was.

So, naturally, I added rainbow hearts to her arms and tucked a few pieces of colorful tinsel into her hair.

Later, the children came back asking for free lollipops.

I lovingly informed them that the lollipops were two dollars each and sent them off on a tiny fundraising mission.

They returned with little hands filled with quarters—two dollars and fifty cents each—and proudly bought their treats.

Then the boy noticed the last two wooden Jesus bracelets on my table.

I could not think of two better people to receive them.

So I gave one to each of them.

A few minutes later, they came back with more handfuls of quarters, enormous smiles, and the sweetest declarations about how kind and awesome they thought I was.

And just like that, my quietest financial day became the most spiritually fulfilling ending I could have imagined.

I did not take any pictures. I had never met their parents, and not every beautiful moment needs to become content.

Sometimes the memory is enough.

But as I was leaving, I saw their mom and Gianna crossing the street in front of my car. I rolled down my window and told her how wonderful her children were—and how much I loved that her little girl had specifically asked me to paint Jesus on her face.

It felt like God tying a bow around my final Spooky Nook weekend of the summer.

Let It Count

Last week, I was reminded that sometimes all we can do is show up.

This week, I was reminded that not every return arrives in dollars.

Sometimes it looks like kitty-cat whiskers, rainbow eyeshadow, giant flames, wooden crosses, and tiny hands filled with quarters.

Sometimes it sounds like a child squealing when she sees herself in the mirror.

Sometimes it arrives as a mother’s review confirming that the love you gave was felt.

The Bible tells us:

“Let all that you do be done in love.” 1 Corinthians 16:14

That is what I am carrying with me this week:

The outcome may not look the way we hoped, but that does not mean the moment was empty.

And here is something for you to reflect on:

Where might you be measuring your life only by what you earned, completed, or received?

What might change if you also counted the person you encouraged, the laughter you created, the love you gave, or the moment that became meaningful because you stayed present?

This week, notice one return that cannot be deposited into a bank account.

Write it down.

Thank God for it.

Let it count.

Where to Find Me Next

Thank you to everyone who visited, supported, encouraged, sparkled, painted, chatted, laughed, or shared part of this Spooky Nook season with me.

I will not be back at Spooky Nook until sometime in November or December, but the magic continues next weekend!

On Saturday, August 8, I will begin my day at the Old Fiddlers’ Picnic at Hibernia Park in Coatesville.

Then I will head to the New Garden Flying Field from 6:00–10:00 p.m.

I will return to the New Garden Flying Field on Sunday, August 9, from noon–5:00 p.m.

Thanks to the generous event sponsors, I will be pumping out free face painting for the public at both events.

I cannot wait to see what little sparks, surprises, and stories are waiting around the corner.

Until next week…

Go notice one beautiful return that money could never measure.

With gratitude, anticipation, and a little extra sparkle,
Brookie ✨