Advent Prayer Guide Gallery

Here are the pieces included in the 2025 Advent Prayer Guide.

Mandie Anderson, Nora Searching for Shells, 2025, oil on canvas

I was on a camping trip with several Redeemer mom friends of mine and their children this past July. We took the kids on a late evening hike to watch the sun set over lake Michigan. There we watched the kids bask in joy of the crashing waves and waning sunshine. They were whooping, hollering, spinning circles, brazenly confronting the churning water, hunting for driftwood and shells. It was so beautiful you could cry. 

There’s something powerful about children playing along the edge of the water—the kinetic energy of the waves meeting their small, unstoppable bodies—a riot of danger and beauty. It makes me think of God. I ache to feel God in the wilderness the way this child does in this moment: searching for shells on the beach, close to her mother, close to her friends. She is wrapped in warm light and feels safe—just laughing, playing, and communing with the God who puts both breath in her lungs and wind on the waves. This is what meeting God in the wilderness feels like to me.

Kyrie Lewis, All the Light, 2022, watercolor markers, gold acrylic paint

“And the angel of the Lord appeared to them, and the glory of the Lord shone around them, and they were filled with great fear.”

Luke 2:9

I wanted to make a piece that contrasted the glory of God with the humbleness of those he chose to share it with. God chooses to be present with us, even when we do not understand or comprehend his plan and purpose.

Katheryn Pourcho, Clarity, 2019, oil on Canvas, 11x14”

It had been a whirlwind summer. 3 Countries, 10 Planes, 5 trains, 6 buses, 10 beds, and 8 friends visited. Though connections with friends wove through my solo travel, the trip had left me feeling totally alone and exhausted. I wanted clarity, so before returning home I hid myself in the Swiss mountains.

That July morning I shouldered my plein air pack and hiked further into the mountains. When sweat began to make my glasses fog, I slipped them off and breathed in the crisp alpine air. Without the filter of 20/20 precision, the simplicity of light and color steadied me. My nearsighted eyesight enjoyed the dance of light on the trees. My ears became attuned to the buzzing of bees and the jingle of cowbells.

I soon found a spot at the crest of a meadow. After locking my tripod in place, I put my glasses back on my nose to see a view far too glorious to fit into my humble 11 x 14” canvas. So, off went the glasses and on went the paint without pretence or ambition. I let my brush leave ridged trails of paint. The experience of painting became more about a playful conversation with the landscape rather than a vain attempt to capture the majesty of what was never intended to be captured.

In that moment I felt seen and loved and made whole by a faithful God. A loving Friend who gently opened my eyes to see that He is with me in my loneliness and invites me to rest, be still, and simply know.

Daniel Dorsett, Preparation (Wooden Wreath), 2025, acrylic paint on wood

When I created this piece this fall, Julie and I were also beginning preparations for our first son who is to arrive in January. I believe this particular anticipation and joy shines through the work. I’ve worked with wood for several years, but I knew that to capture the image I had envisioned, I would need to explore paint. Acrylic ended up providing the textures I was looking for—just enough depth to mimic the look of wax on the candles.

I designed the piece to highlight the unexpected nature of the Savior arriving as a baby, born into poverty and low status—and to pair that with the unexpectedness of creating “candles” out of wood. It shouldn’t work. But it does. And that felt right. God often works through the unexpected, bringing Hope, Faith, Joy, and Peace in ways we don’t always see coming.

The piece is built so that each week of Advent, another candle can be added to the stand, much like a traditional church Advent wreath.