Respect your body when it’s asking for a break. Respect your mind when it’s seeking rest. Respect yourself when you need a moment for yourself. I imagine that when we read this, most of us would nod in agreement. Yes, we should respect our bodies and our minds. Yes, we should honor ourselves when we need a moment to disengage. And yet…what we say we agree with…we often don’t actually do. There are many reasons for this, but here’s a few that come to mind:  Feeling driven to accomplish. Feeling responsible. Wanting to keep going.  These desires and compulsions can override – and even mute – the Holy Spirit’s voice within us.  I sometimes behave as if I’m wired to “do”, not just to “be”. Words like accomplishment, success, efficiency and productivity fuel my natural inclination to keep going, despite what my body, my soul or my spirit may say.  Perhaps this also is your feeling…your experience. Let’s be honest: it’s difficult to give ...

This is the final post related to my trip to the Seattle area last month.  In my daily life, I tend to fill every moment. I do this, because my body and soul resist slowing down, and I struggle to give myself permission for downtime. However, I find this tendency slowly changing as I realize the importance of unhurried, open spaces of time to rest my soul.  Once I make specific plans, and get away for time alone with God, I find this slower rhythm to be so refreshing. It often includes inner joyful moments as God rejuvenates my soul, and reminds me of his love for me and his pleasure in just being with me.  Since the primary purpose of my trip to Washington was to speak for a women’s retreat (a time of giving out and investing in others), I decided to take a few extra days afterward for some time alone. I have gone away by myself a number of times, and have learned some “do’s and don’ts” that help me enjoy the experiences God provides when I have unscheduled ti...

The frost has lifted and the first flowers are blooming. These signs signify early spring, but also that I soon will be able to step back into a place that is a significant part of my life. A place that helps bring a sense of rhythm to my days. It’s a local, family-owned farm. Come April 15, rain or sun, Thistledown Farm will open for another season. It’s circled on my calendar and I await it’s opening with anticipation. Yes, they sell produce and plants like many farms…but this place actually refreshes my soul. The season begins with only a few items on the shelves, so the space is open and the atmosphere quiet. Then I watch the greenhouse offerings, the food bins, and the cold storage areas fill up over the months. By mid-summer, the view is one of abundance with bursting color, food options and plants galore. It is a feast for the eyes and the stomach! Now, you might wonder: what’s so special about going to a farm, and this one in particular? I love the short drive out into ...

You write your life story by the choices you make. Helen Mirren In the 1950s, the Appalachian Trail twisted through the orchard of the Belmonte family on the Tennessee / North Carolina border. Hikers often would pause at the farm, take a brief break, then continue on. How did they find their way along this lengthy trail that meandered for more than 2000 miles? They followed white marks (known as “blazes”) painted on a variety of trees, rocks and fence posts. There are roughly 80,000 blazes – signposts, really – that mark this trail from Georgia to Maine.  Kevin Belmonte has watched hundreds of hikers pass by his farm. He states that missing the blazes is a time-consuming and potentially deadly problem, because some areas of the Appalachian Mountains can “swallow up hikers like a haunted forest.” Choosing the right path, by following the white blazes, determines where hikers end up.  Choices matter. They matter because they affect the direction in which we head. ...

As you walk with Jesus, resting your head on His heart,  you will learn to know His Word,  His will, and His ways.  Your joy will abound as you remain in His love.  Sue Detweiler When our youngest daughter was little, she used to play with our nativity set all the time; imagining the story of Jesus’ birth. One day after she was finished playing, I noticed that the little porcelain Jesus was absent from the manger! Did Rachel take him somewhere? Did she hide him or lose him? No. She simply placed Jesus in her pocket, so he could be with her all the time. Rachel now is a grown woman, but I continue to think of that Christmas when Jesus was transported in her pocket so he would be near to her heart. I love that image of closeness and love. It reminds me of John 15:9, where Jesus says that just as his father loves him, he loves us and invites us to abide in that love.  A few days ago I put away our nativity set, and now – as 2019 begins – I ponder...