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 exhaustio...

There are some weeks when I wish the assignment were something easier. Something that looked more like beauty and less like breaking. You would think that I would know these things by now, at my age, but He is so kind to gently remind me, again and again. I keep coming back to this quiet convicti...

I’ve been thinking about how not all seasons are long or dramatic. Some pass quietly. Others begin without much fanfare. You look up one day, and something has shifted—but it didn’t come with a loud arrival. It just was. Traveling these past weeks has given me a little space from the usual rhythm...