A blessed life is one lived intentionally.

And can we agree that few things in life are more intentional than growing a garden? We scout out a sunny spot, prepare the soil, choose the plants, and pluck them in the ground. I know a little something about this because growing up, we had a large organic garden⏤back before organic was cool.

In the springtime, we planted tomatoes, peppers, corn, and okra. In summer, insects were plucked off stems, and in the fall, decaying tomatoes whizzed past us in hopes of pelting the other person with the ripe scent of rot. Good times!

 

But in the winter, we rested, as did the ground.

 

The garden soil was still, but it never stopped receiving nutrients from the layers of organic matter dad churned into the earth just before the first frost. Earthworms continued to weave their way through red clay, as we have here in the south, aerating the soil and making it healthier for the next season.

During the winter, rest also happened inside our house as we enjoyed the fruit of our labor from the prior year’s garden. And receiving the Burpee Seed Spring catalog generated as much excitement as the lemon blueberry bundt cakes baked most Sunday afternoons. (Trust me, that’s a lot of excitement!)

 

So what does a wintering ground have to do with creating holy pockets of stillness?

 

Just because a ground appears still and lifeless for a season doesn’t mean life isn’t teeming below. And just because we choose to be still doesn’t mean a holy bustle isn’t happening within. In fact, our still moments are the most productive moments of the day.

Imagine the peace and assurance the Israelites must have received from this passage as they left Egypt. In stillness, these words from the Lord can calm the storms raging below our surface⏤fear, worry, bitterness, etc.

 

On the outside, we’re all smiles. Beneath the happy expression is a heart that is anything but. Recent events, deciding whether or not to take the vaccination, wondering what the year holds, and job concerns elbow their way through an already crowded heart. But in stillness, we remember God’s sovereignty and wait patiently for Him, His timing, and His ways.

 

If Jesus can hush an angry sea with three words, surely we can still ourselves long enough to hear them too. *smile*

 

Holy pockets of silence don’t need to be added to our day —  they already exist in the ordinary moments.

  • Outdoors. Walking or sitting outside, we close our eyes. What gratitude rises from what you see, smell, or hear?
  • Folding laundry. Consider putting a scripture verse on the wall to meditate on while you fold.
  • Baking. Watching someone prepare dough for loaves of bread is marvel-worthy in my book. The slow ease with which they knead a simple mixture of flour and liquid into a work of art prompts me to want to do the same. Maybe we don’t bake bread, but we brew cups of tea and prepare meals. Both require a slowing-down of sorts. What if we embraced the quiet process instead of fighting it, choosing to practice stillness as God uses our hands to bring forth beauty?

 

With stillness comes rest⏤whether it’s a wintering ground or a troubled soul⏤producing a healthier, more resilient, and stronger life for seasons to come.

What’s one simple way you will create a holy pocket of silence in your day? (There’s no right or wrong answer!)

 

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