While my week in the States was far from physically demanding, it was a hard time for my heart, a stiff confining of my spirit that left me weary and weak.
I longed to run from the constant company of others to the lavish silence and space of my Father's arms. How much energy is consumed trying to hold back wings that ache to soar?
After a week away from home, there are chores to be done, errands to run and people to see. But all will wait, by His design.
Winter's hand still rests heavy upon our region of Canada, with snow and freezing rain blowing in winds that shift the landscape. Of our two vehicles, only one can safely navigate the drifts and icy roads.
My mind turns to a deeper place. I sit and watch the birds, hungry at the feeders. I listen for the still, small voice the world would chase away. I read. I pray. I worship the One Who arranged this time to simply breathe.
Rest while you may. There is always work ahead.
Yes, my soul, find rest in God; my hope comes from him. Psalm 62:5 NIV
Jamming with Bonnie as we continue to ponder rest.
Stop by Emily's to read more words imperfect.