Learn more about Christ in the Psalms weekly artwork and see previous pieces here.

Kimberly Kelly

About the Artist • About the Piece

My name is Kim. My husband, Peter, and I have been at Park for 11 years. I’m a mom to the two coolest people I know, a therapist, and an amateur art maker. Art allows me to let go of perfectionism and enjoy the process.

My kids’ Bible (CSB) has this psalm titled “portrait of a sinner.” As I was meditating on this passage, I couldn’t get the idea of this as a self-portrait of sorts out of my head. I think it’s too easy to read this psalm and want to minimize its truth. I’m no fool! I’m not like the person described here…except too often I am. This psalm has encouraged me to confront the foolishness in my life and heart—the ways I proclaim “of course there’s a God” with my words but don’t live like I believe that to be true. With that idea in mind, I intentionally played with proportions to highlight the foolishness and absurdity of where our lives are often oriented when the glory of God is so tangibly on display around us. My hope is that this Psalm would encourage us to examine our own foolishness and return to the God of grace who promises to be our refuge.

Learn more about Christ in the Psalms weekly artwork and see previous pieces here.

Kara Schorstein

About the Artist • About the Piece

I’m a semi-retired visual artist but have also dabbled in songwriting since I was a teen. My dad was a pastor most of my childhood which was spent in Abilene, Texas. We visited Colorado on a vacation in 1969, and I fell in love with the Rocky Mountains. I escaped Texas when I was 45!

I loved my parents (who have passed), but they were extremely rigid in their expectations of me and my four siblings when we were young. Because of this, I have struggled my whole life to think of God as a loving Father. My husband—the best man I’ve ever known—was the worship pastor at a church in Estes Park. He passed away in our fifth year there. “To Believe” was written/begun there and finished recently when I received the invitation from Seth to participate in the art and writing for this summer’s Psalms series. I’m still working to understand and embrace the impact of God being my father, but He has brought me to a point in my walk with Him where I firmly believe in His love, affection, and grace for me.

Learn more about Christ in the Psalms weekly artwork and see previous pieces here.

Allee Nesbitt

About the Artist • About the Piece

I’m Allee. I do creative direction, design, and branding for an urban planning company based out of San Francisco, CA. I’ve been attending Park Church since 2016. Park is where I met my husband, Cody, and now we have two little guys who make life very fun (2.5 years and 3 months). Life these days is mostly a mix of toddler negotiations, baby snuggles, and reheated coffee.

This design is inspired by Psalm 12, a lament for a world overflowing with noise, division, performance, and fractured truth. When I read this psalm, it felt deeply connected to the world we live in today. It can feel easy to get swept into outrage, fear, and the pressure to choose sides rather than remain grounded in the steady truth of who God is. I often find myself caught between seeking approval from others and resting in the truth of who God says I am. In Psalm 12, God’s words are described as “pure words, like silver refined seven times” — untouched by sin, steady in love, and completely trustworthy.

The hands throughout the piece represent desperation, prayer, surrender, and the longing to reach toward God in the midst of confusion. The snake, scale, eye, and hourglass symbolize deception, imbalance, spiritual exhaustion, and the slow erosion of trust that can happen when we are shaped more by the world’s division than by Christ’s love and truth. In contrast, the silver, sun, and window reflect refinement, guidance, hope, and the steadiness of God’s presence. Together, these symbols point back to the heart of Psalm 12: a reminder that even in a fractured world, God’s truth remains pure, faithful, and worthy of our trust.

Learn more about Christ in the Psalms weekly artwork and see previous pieces here.

Chase Hoffman

About the Artist • About the Piece

I was born and raised here in Colorado. I was briefly an engineer before switching careers to photography. I’ve been doing photography professionally for 16 years across several specialties like portraiture, sports, wildlife, landscape, and real estate. My wife and I have been attending Park Church for 11 years. I’m also a father of two energetic boys, Clark and Devin.

The first sentence of Psalm 11 “In the Lord, I take refuge” is the focus of my piece. David is told to “flee like a bird to your mountain” so I chose to embody David as this red-winged blackbird. The wicked in this psalm are intent on violence toward David yet The Lord is his refuge. A refuge isn’t merely a place away from danger, but a place where one can be calm and be assured of salvation. Just like how this bush shelters this bird from predators and the elements, God shelters David and he shelters us.

There is no need to flee, but to remain with God. The artistic process of exploring theological concepts in photography is like a real-world scavenger’s hunt for God’s goodness. Obviously I “make” my art, but unlike other art forms it’s only through real moments that happen around me. That requires a mental shift and stillness to help me find those fleeting moments and then actually capture them. When I found this bird, I was able to sit down on the ground and take my time dialing in my camera’s settings. The two of us actually stayed put together for several minutes. It was clearly aware of me (probably ten feet away), but didn’t feel the need to flee. I was the one that left first after getting more than enough images.

Learn more about Christ in the Psalms weekly artwork and see previous pieces here.

Person: Calgary Beck

My name is Calgary and I’m 9 years old. I’m the oldest child in a family of six. Listening to fairy tales and drawing are two of my favorite things.

Piece

The heavy darkness in the drawing is showing how the psalmist feels. The eyes in the trees are the wicked hiding and their evil deeds. The tumbled down buildings are a picture of the ugliness of sin and injustice going on in normal life and the broken sadness in Psalm 10. The tree with the snake on it shows how sin can also look tempting. The bright kingdom far off represents heaven and the psalmist trusting in God’s faithfulness even in his sadness.

PROCESS: CHALK PASTEL

I was going to bed one night and I saw a kid bible that we love to read. It was depicting a path leading to beauty and happiness. I felt like that was such a big deal, and I just kept it in mind. Later, I read Psalm 10 for the first time and that was the picture that popped in my head.

Learn more about Christ in the Psalms weekly artwork and see previous pieces here.

Person: Whitney Grimm

Hi.

I’m a Colorado native who moved to LA in 2012 to seek out and explore the world around me. I knew there was more than what I experienced around me at the time. It was during this time that I began learning who I was, where my gifts and skills were, and what I liked in life. While in LA, I met many people in the fashion and creative industries who helped open my mind and doors to the creative world, showing me how diverse these industries are. I was immediately drawn to visual merchandising, wardrobe styling, graphic design, screen printing, typography, painting, art, etc. After working in such areas, I wanted a more stable skill set to fall back on if needed. So I moved back to Denver and was accepted to a local art school where I graduated with honors, Summa Cum Laude, something I didn’t think was possible for me. That season of life was truly valuable. I was growing in self-confidence, my ability to design well, in developing relationships with clients and others in the industry, and even in pursuing being an artist. I’ve grown so much over the last five years in myself as an artist, developing skills in different areas of art I like. My aesthetic is simple: clean storytelling through lines, shapes, and texture. I’ve incorporated that idea into the three art pieces I’ve done for Park, one of which is this piece.

Piece

The house is a representation of a safehouse, the place in which you find comfort and safety, though it doesn’t have to be a house; it could be whatever structure provides safety and security for you. The hands are God’s hands. He is our ultimate security, comforter, and protector from all enemies, both visible and invisible. And greenery represents life that exists in God and what can be grown in His presence.

PROCESS: MIXED MEDIA

I did a lot of research in commentaries and in different versions of the Bible. I sat with God in it and did a lot of contemplating. I wanted to understand what Psalm 9 was about or what David was saying in it. As I sat at my desk reading and asking God what He wanted me to make and what my spirit felt from this Psalm, I got a picture of a simple line-drawn house. Then, reading the Message Bible, in verses 9-10, the word safehouse stood out to me. I then researched the meaning of safehouse. It’s defined as “a confidential, private dwelling where individuals flee to find refuge. A secure environment.” This Psalm was challenging for me on what to create, because there’s so much meat in it. I also couldn’t get out of my head. But here we are, a finished piece.

Learn more about Christ in the Psalms weekly artwork and see previous pieces here.

Person: James Stukenberg

James Stukenberg is a photographer drawn to people stories and creating images with a high degree of authenticity. Since relocating to Colorado from Wisconsin in 2018 he has freelanced, photographing editorial and commercial assignments. He lives with his wife, Anne, and their three young daughters Henrietta, Louisa and Juliana, in a mint green house in Westminster.

Piece

In Psalm 8, the weak are made strong and the lowly become the unexpected rulers of the world. Babies and infants are given power beyond their stature to defeat the enemies of God. And man, whose troubled and broken humanity is made evident in Psalm 7, is granted dominion over God’s glorious handiwork.

This image represents the gracious granting of power and privilege to the truly humble. Showing the back of the child avoids specificity and reflects the broad nature of this instance of image bearing, while the tone, subtle movement and layered finish work to further place the moment in the spiritual realm.

PROCESS: PHOTOGRAPHY

Photograph, wheat paste finish.

Learn more about Christ in the Psalms weekly artwork and see previous pieces here.

Person: Denise Yennie

My husband and I moved to Denver by God’s calling on our lives 2 1/2 years ago where he placed us in the neighborhood of Park Church. We are blessed that our two adult kids are also in the area. One of my hobbies is photography: mostly capturing our travel adventures, God’s natural beauty, and food.

Piece

I selected Psalm 7 based on the first verse: “O Lord my God, in you I take refuge; save me from all my pursuers and deliver me.” The center photo of the volcanic rock cradling a small piece of coral immediately came to mind as a representation of God’s protection and refuge for us. This rock was about 5 ft up on a 12 ft tall volcanic rock wall that encompassed a small village. The only way that little piece of coral got there from the ocean, to be cradled and protected, was from a ferocious storm. The same place in our lives where we seek shelter, represented by the photo of the crashing waves on the rocks.

The top left photo of clouds represents a powerful God on high who rises to anger and judges the evil (vs 6, 8, & 11). With the people below worshiping him (vs 7 & 17). The photo of St. Michael, the archangel, is drawing his sword to put an end to the evil and wicked (vs 12-16) that is also represented in the crashing waves.

PROCESS: PHOTOGRAPHY

At first I was just going to stop at verse 1, using only the center photo—God is my refuge, as He has been so in my life countless times. I had so many great nature photos of places that have brought me peace and reminders of God’s goodness and glory: lots of sunrises and sunsets on mountains and beaches that I chose to use multiple photos. This then required me to do some math, playing with layouts of various size photos to best fit the 18×18 board we were given to use (which is not a standard photo size). I could use several 4x6s, though they created visual chaos, not peace and refuge. I settled on 4 8x10s (a vertical and horizontal = 18″), connected with a smaller center one. This arrangement created a nice visual flow.

But there was so much more going on in this psalm: evil and what it takes to conquer it. I don’t have a lot photos of evil, though found one photo of fire with a dark background I wanted to use to represent God’s burning anger over evil. This would give me a couple dark backgrounds with the colorful sunrise/sunset ones. But it just didn’t work, still too much noise and not a great story flow. I prayed as I went back through the Psalm and my photos to find something that might work and found the statue of St. Michael drawing a sword. Then found the angels singing to the heavens photo. Both had blue backgrounds (one day, one night) that matched the nature photos. These added a humanistic aspect, contrast, and balance to the nature photos.

Learn more about Christ in the Psalms weekly artwork and see previous pieces here.

Person: Myra Ferguson

As a digital media subject matter expert, I wrote How to Cheat in Adobe Animate CC: The Art of Design and Animation and have authored video courses for Photoshop and Illustrator. I teach part-time at the University of Colorado Boulder, create video tutorials, and write articles to help InDesign users convert print layouts to interactive HTML5 content. I have worked for Adobe on various projects and have created digital media skill assessments for LinkedIn for Photoshop, Illustrator, Animate, and After Effects. My portfolio is available at myraferguson.myportfolio.com.

Learn more about Christ in the Psalms weekly artwork and see previous pieces here.

Person: Kari Langford

Kari Langford lives and works in Denver with a heart for creativity and connection. Guided by faith and a love for beauty in the everyday, she sees art as a way to reflect God’s light, to participate in God’s Kingdom, and to stir other souls to worship. When not painting, she might be enjoying a hike with her pup or reading with a cup of coffee in her hand.

Piece

“Listen to my words, Lord; consider my sighing.
Pay attention to the sound of my cry, my King and my God, for I pray to you.
In the morning, Lord, you hear my voice; in the morning, I plead my case to you and watch expectantly.”
(Psalm 5:1–3 CSB)

There is lament in these words. There is also rooted hope and trust in them. My piece is meant to depict that gap in between.

There are multiple layers showing light coming through a window, and more specifically, morning light. There are collaged layers of pattern that bring the element of complexity and history to the work. And finally, the forefront of the painting loosely reflects the dappling of shadow from the trees above. Both the deep, rich color and imprinted markings of the shadows correspond to the immense weight of my cry.

PROCESS: OIL PAINT & COLLAGE

Truly, the most beautiful part of this piece WAS the process, and how the Father guided me through. I wrestled with this painting. I started out with an idea of what I wanted it to look like, primarily a light, joyful flow of light coming in through a window, to depict the morning time when we take our prayers to Him. Something was not quite right, so I would paint layer over layer over layer – thinking the whole time that I was wasting time and paint.

But God…

I was sitting and listening one morning, and I sensed him beautifully show me: Kari this is prayer, this is how it works. The act of continuing to come to him morning after morning, thinking we are wasting our time, but He is creating something beautiful! The process of prayer and life with God does not always feel like things are happening—like it is “working”—and it certainly is not always light and joyful. I learned more about persistent prayer and lament throughout this process and ultimately came to a place of deeper trust in the One who is always Faithful, the One who hears every single prayer that we cry, scream, or whisper.