For a long time, I treated beauty and rest as luxuries. They felt like something I could only reach for once the real work was finished. But the work was never finished. There was always one more thing waiting, and the days slipped by in a blur of tasks and striving.
It took a season of exhaustion for me to see it differently. I remember feeling worn thin, stretched to the edges of myself, realizing that if I kept waiting for life to slow down on its own, Iâd miss the very things that made it worth living. Beauty and rest werenât meant to be occasional rewards; they were what sustained me.
Now, I no longer treat them as extras. Theyâve become part of the rhythm of my days. A sprig of rosemary by the sink. A candle lit before I begin work. A slow walk when my mind feels heavy. These small choices donât erase the hard or hurried parts of life, but they remind me to breathe, to notice, to remember that thereâs more here than just the pressing through.
And when I pause long enough, I find that beauty and rest were never far away. They were always waitingâwoven quietly into the hours, like threads the Lord had already placed there. Itâs simply a matter of paying attention.
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