65 – Palettes of Lament and Joy
A weekly blog of Creative Ideas for Leading Worship
Palettes of Lament and Joy
Colour, Emotion, and Prayer Beyond Words
Worship is often word heavy. We explain, confess, plead, and praise until language itself starts to feel thin. Yet human beings are not just verbal creatures. We feel first, then we speak. Colour gives us a way back into that deeper layer of prayer.
The Palette of Lament and Joy is a simple, tactile practice that invites people to identify the emotions they carry without rushing into explanations. It borrows an everyday object from an unexpected place – the paint manufacturer colour charts you find in your local hardware store – and turns them into tools for prayer.
These swatches are ideal. They are free, abundant, familiar, and surprisingly evocative. Each shade already carries a name – “Deep Ocean”, “Morning Mist”, “Burnt Clay”, “Summer Fern”. People instinctively respond to them without needing theological training or emotional fluency.
How the practice works
Before the service, get 10 colour chart swatches from your hardware store that cover the whole colour spectrum. Cut the charts into individual colour patches with the name of the shade still showing.
Place a basket of colour patches at the entrance to the church and invite each person to choose two colours:
• one colour that represents a recent moment of joy, gratitude, or hope
• one colour that represents a recent experience of lament, struggle, or loss
During the Prayers of Intercession, invite people to hold their two colours in their hands.
Begin with a moment of silence, acknowledging that before we speak, we feel. Then invite those who wish to share to do so through the colour first:
“I bring this colour before God…”
“This shade holds something heavy for me…”
Some will speak. Some will remain silent. Both are faithful responses.
Connecting with the liturgical year
This practice becomes even richer when linked to the colours of the church’s seasons.
In Advent, purples and deep blues can hold longing, waiting, and unfinished hope.
In Christmas, whites, golds, and soft light tones speak of wonder and fragile joy.
In Epiphany, bright colours and sharp contrasts reflect revelation and surprise.
In Lent, muted purples, greys, and earthy browns give permission for repentance and honesty.
In Holy Week, dark reds and shadows allow space for grief without rushing to resolution.
In Easter, whites, yellows, and greens celebrate life that refuses to stay buried.
In Ordinary Time, the greens remind us that most of faith is lived in steady, unspectacular growth.
You might even limit the palette to colours that echo the current season, reinforcing the sense that personal prayer sits inside a larger communal and liturgical story.
Why this works
Colour bypasses defensiveness. It allows people to bring truth without having to justify it. It gives children, neurodivergent worshippers, and emotionally cautious adults equal footing in prayer. It also resists the temptation to tidy up pain too quickly.
Intercessory prayer becomes less about eloquence and more about presence. Lament and joy sit side by side, just as they do in real life.
At the end of the service, you might invite people to place one of their patches into a shared basket near the altar – a quiet, visual reminder that the prayers of the community are many-coloured, complex, and held together by grace.
People retain the other patch and take it home to bring out and hold and reflect on during the coming week.
This is worship that trusts emotion, honours silence and lets God meet us where words run out.
Ngā mihi
Philip