Several years ago I posted a video with my camper (affectionately named, “Pilgrim”) within the fence adjacent to my home. You’ll remember how steep the learning curve felt and how hesitant I was to take Pilgrim beyond the fence. Click here if you want to see that message entitled “Meet Pilgrim:” https://blog.dawnlinton.com/
By now Pilgrim and I have been on some exciting treks together. But a recent surprise reminded me that protected time back within the fence is important too (see 30 second video below). In the relaxed interior of soul care God delights to bring new life to our spirits in preparation for enjoying next steps.
The Treasure: “Look at the birds of the air; they do not sow or reap or store away in barns, and yet your heavenly Father feeds them. Are you not much more valuable than they? Can any one of you by worrying add a single hour to your life?” (Matthew 6:26-27 NIV)
If you’d rather read than watch the video, here’s the full video transcript:
Look at this. My propane heater, right within the fence where Pilgrim is was covered with a tarp that rotted. The weather just took it down and it kind of fell right down to the middle here and a mama bird took opportunity to lay her eggs right in this safe spot within the fence. It’s so fun to see new life right here – and she’s covered by the cover of the propane top. I can’t wait to see the babies.
Unicycle riding has never interested me. I prefer two wheels under me, feet on the pedals, and hands on the handlebars. Even so, the unicyclist pedaling down a mountain road in Montana fascinated me and sparked enough interest to google a few details. Coaches instruct unicyclists to sit high in the saddle, use arms for balance, look ahead (not down), pedal continuously, and try to land on their feet by falling forward if they lose their balance. I’ll stick to my traditional bike, thank you. But when I catch sight of a unicyclist, I’ll admire all the practice and technique it took to equip him/her with such remarkable talent and endurance (see video). Albert Einstein spoke wisdom when he said, “Life is like riding a bicycle. To keep your balance, you must keep moving.” (Albert Einstein)
The Treasure: For spiritual flourishing we do well to sit solid on the seat of God’s love, balance truth with grace toward others, continuously lean forward into His plans, and keep moving in step with the adventure of God’s Spirit in us. (John 3:16, John 1:14, Proverbs 29:11, Galatians 5:25)
If you’d rather read than watch the video, here’s the full video transcript:
This is a unicycle rider riding a unicycle down off of a mountain from Red Lodge. That’s crazy. One wheel. That’s an example of doing familiar things in different ways. Sorry I’m rocking this around because I’m driving my car just to keep up with him a little bit. He has to keep pedaling; he can’t coast on a unicycle. Look at the view he’s got though, coming down off of the mountain. That’s not one of my goals – to ride a unicycle. I wouldn’t mind coasting on my bicycle down off the mountain but … that’s crazy—crazy fun.
In the small New England town I grew up in, winters brought an abundance of snow. I loved digging out an igloo from piles of snow left at the end of our driveway left by snowplows or packing snow for a sledding trail on the hills of our neighborhood. But this year, an international snow sculpting competition in Breckinridge, Colorado, took snow art to a stunning level. Each sculpting team worked with a 25-ton block of pressed snow that measured 12’x12’x15’ high. Teams worked for 92 continuous hours to complete the one-week display, not only for global recognition, but also to maximize ideal snow conditions in the cold climate of Breckinridge Ski Resort. The faces of many who lingered to watch and vote were full of wonder and joy. Snow takes on many forms—snow for skiing, snow for sledding, snow for sculpting (like the corn cob above sculpted by India), snow for watching … and the metaphor of snow that represents how God’s love and purpose is directed to our lives as delivered by His word (see video).
The Treasure: As the rain and the snow come down from heaven, and do not return to it without watering the earth and making it bud and flourish …so is my word that goes out from my mouth. It will not return to me empty but will accomplish what I desire and achieve the purpose for which I sent it. (Isaiah 55:10-11 NIV)
If you’d rather read than watch the video, here’s the full video transcript:
Snow travelled in a one-way direction from heaven to earth and settled here along the Arkansas River in Buena Vista, Colorado. Like snow, God’s Word travels in a one-way direction too and settles in our hearts causing us to flourish. It’s alive and has power to accomplish His purpose to transform us so rivers of life can flow from us. That sounds like real abundance to me.
Even a steep descent to the lowest place can transform the trajectory of our lives when we take the difficult journey with God. The premise of my book entitled Rediscover the Dance is that valleys of weeping yield tears that can become replenishing springs and a catalyst for post-traumatic growth (Psalm 84:5-6). In Chapter 9 entitled “Valley Momentum” we explore how putting Three Rs into action can keep us from getting stuck in valleys of weeping.
Relinquish self-dependence for God dependence
Remember God’s words
Rely on God for outcome.
Riding a gondola over the steepest part of a mountain in Colorado reminded me to thank God on the joyful heights and to trust Him in the scary chasms.
The Treasure: When life feels impossible we may think, It’s over, But God says, We’ve only just begun.1
Dawn Linton, Rediscover the Dance (Koehler Books, 2025), 138
If you’d rather read than watch the video, here’s the full video transcript:
I’m on one of the ski slopes at Beaver Creek in Colorado. The interesting thing about this mountain is that some people call it an inverted mountain which means the easier slopes (called green slopes) are at the top and the most difficult slopes are at the bottom. So, those of us who are more cautious skiers like myself take a gondola halfway up the mountain over the difficult slopes. Then we ski over to another chair lift and take that chair lift out of sight over to the top of the mountain which is about nine thousand feet. And so, we ski around on the top half of the mountain as long as we want to – just up and down the most beautiful and gentle green slopes. Then we get back on the gondola and come back into the valley over the difficult parts. As in life, it’s a lot easier to be at a higher elevation emotionally, spiritually, physically and to just be able to really enjoy the ease of life. Thank God we have ways to come down and tools for us to be in the valley as well. But thankfully today I don’t have to ski down a black diamond slope to get to the bottom where I head home in just a little while.
Laughter of children sparked by chipmunks made me smile. I had hardly noticed the four-legged critters, as a vast expanse filled my heart with wonder (see video). Creation is like that—a kaleidoscope of beauty that changes with each turn, and with abundant interest for every age.
The Treasure: Let the power of God in creation take our breath away, open us up to receive His generosity, and remind us to set our hope in Him.
If you’d rather read than watch the video, here’s the full video transcript:
I’m at 9600 feet on the Beartooth Highway in Montana. I’m in this beautiful spot overlooking incredible mountains and valleys. But the children up here don’t even see the mountains. Do you know why? They are looking right down here at these little holes where the chipmunks come out. The chipmunks come out and they get up and they scurry along, and they’re just watching the chipmunks, so excited. But they’re missing the beautiful view.
Well, reality is, I have chipmunks in my life too—things like pride, worry, and performance that scurry around and pull my attention away from what’s important. These critters narrow my vision to the amazing scope of God’s power and the grand scale of what He is doing. But the writer of Psalm 121 invites us to lift our eyes to the hills and let creation remind us that our help comes from God who made all of it. How stunning to know our Creator never slumbers as He watches over us.
I didn’t expect to feel the downward spiral of sorrow in the days following Christmas this year. Even knowing the reason for my downcast soul didn’t help. I couldn’t fix it, and I just couldn’t shake it. I knew if Steve were still alive that his compassion and wisdom would lift much of my burden. If you relate, let me tell you what I did to stop the downward spiral.
I did everything I didn’t want to do. I slogged through bike rides, joined friends for a walk or a meal, and connected (sort of) with God through reading Scripture. I said “yes” (with a dull spirit) to every invitation. I prayed … and waited. The result? More loss of sleep and lethargy. Until … those strategies began to put a spring in my step. I first noticed my sorrow had lifted as I filled my gas tank at Wawa yesterday. Mundane? Not so much! My perspective is still shifting upward with gratitude and with intentionality to keep my hand God’s. (See video and meet me on the Rimrocks in Montana.)
The Treasure: I am the Lord your God who takes hold of your right hand, and says to you, “Do not fear; I will help you.” (Isaiah 41:13 NIV)
If you’d rather read than watch the video, here’s the full video transcript:
Well hey there! Hello again from Montana. Today I’m up on the Rimrocks; it’s a beautiful spot overlooking the city of Billings. I just want to pipe in because I’m going home tomorrow and I want to share one last thought with you: Sometimes when we need to muster up courage to move beyond fear and loss in order to find a new sweet spot, it means that we need to do familiar things in a different way. So there are trails all around up here. Sometimes they’re hard to see, but the difference is sometimes we’ve walked a trail with our hand in someone hand that we love. And finding a new sweet spot beyond the fence can mean, instead of holding our friend’s hand, or our companion’s hand or our lover’s hand that we take the hand of God (we talked about that last time) and walk with Him. And I have experienced that in beautiful ways these two weeks. I’ve been to beautiful places, but instead of being with the person I love, I’ve been with God who loves me, and unexpected surprises of beauty and relationships and conversations with family. So I encourage you to take risk and do familiar things in different ways so that you don’t get stuck. I’m with you; I don’t want to get stuck either, so we can do this together. So long for now.
Here they are! Release date was December 9th. Needless to say, I’m excited to have a portion of the story of my soul in written form. I’m also in vast new territory which requires me to be a life-long student. But this one thing I have learned: trauma can deafen our ears to what is true about God and how He can help us. Long waiting periods can blind us to the evidence of His power. Unsure footing can lure us onto detours. I have lost my footing in valleys before. Crises stopped me in my tracks, and I had trouble finding my way. But we are never lost when we prepare to take a journey with God. My first book is available online wherever books are sold. It’s a gentle invitation—a mix of story and strategy designed to transform exhausting tears into replenishing springs. I hope you’ll meet me within the pages of my story and yours.
Books are available online, wherever books are sold. Thank you for subscribing to my blog during 2025—my first months of online presence!
In her book, Invitation to Retreat, Ruth Haley Barton defines retreat as a “strategic withdrawal” from whatever is not working in our lives—to “gain perspective and set new strategies.”1 Last week I drove my Jeep in search of “someplace quiet” and pulled off at the sign to a monastery pictured above. A sign on the door welcomed “dear friends who wish to enter in silence.” So, I considered myself to be a “dear friend”, and sat in the solitude of that place for over an hour. For decades I have found solitary places for reflection at the end of each calendar year. There, I gain perspective by remembering God’s faithfulness in the past, and I seek new strategies for wholehearted living in the future. Don’t be misled. I am not ultra spiritual. That’s why I need times of reorientation. The value of “retreat” is this: there is an unseen battle for our allegiance where the busyness of life, culture, and expectations of others (and self) make for weary travelling. But in times of strategic withdrawal we remember that taking God’s hand at the gate of the year is better than light and safer than a known way. This is beautifully written in a poem by Minnie Louise Haskins (see video clip).
The Treasure: “In all your ways acknowledge Him, and He shall direct your paths.” (Proverbs 3:6, NKJV)
If you’d rather read than watch the video, here’s the full video transcript:
Greetings from Montana. I certainly have left Pilgrim, the camper, back in Virginia in that locked in paddock but I’ve gone beyond the fence and I’m actually way off the beaten path today hiking a trail south of Livingston, Montana. It’s beautiful here; it’s cold. There’s actually snow on the trail – and I just wanted to pipe in and remember at the beginning of the year this great saying called The Gate of the Year. It goes like this:
And I said to the man that stood at the gate of the year, “Give me a light that I may travel safely into the unknown.” And he said, “Go out into the dark and put your hand into the hand into the hand of God. That shall be better to you than light and safer than a known way.”
Well, when we get off the beaten path like I am today, sometimes it can be a great place of reorientation, of reflection, of seeing where the real path for our lives is going to lead. So I encourage you at the beginning of the year (with me as well); we don’t know what lies ahead but we know we have a great God who says, “You don’t need to get stuck looking back at things in the past. Learn from them … but look! Don’t you see? I’m doing a new thing. Don’t you perceive it?” So, I hope you find many new things that are wonderful and match the beauty of the Creator who created all of this. Happy New Year to you.
I didn’t expect the empty feeling that came over me as Christmas approached two years ago. It was my second Christmas without Steve. I knew I wanted to stay in town in order to participate in holiday festivities with my family, friends, and faith community, but the “gray” feel of home inspired me to plan something different. So I reserved a campsite seven miles away to experience a “Pilgrim’s Christmas” in a primo spot on the river. Sorrow came with me, but the waterfront view combined with cozy warmth in my teardrop camper added a dimension of color that helped me breathe into the beauty of what Christmas means.
Holidays can be both delightful and difficult. If you’re experiencing the pain of loss or the loneliness of unfulfilled dreams, perhaps a small change for the holidays can be helpful. In the two-year-old video (below) I changed my location and invited my heartier friends and family for hot chocolate and fireside chats. I ordered a box of books to give each one a gift. It wasn’t easy … until I got there. Then my new surroundings took my eyes off of myself and gave my heart a boost of joy, even though you’ll notice my “Merry Christmas” at the end sounds a bit dull.
Whether your teardrop represents the image of a fun camper or the reality of sadness, I pray that God will be your comfort, make you aware of His presence, and bring unexpected blessing to you this holiday season.
The Treasure: “Behold, I am doing a new thing; now it springs forth, do you not perceive it?” (Isaiah 43:19)
If you’d rather read than watch the video, here’s the full video transcript:
Quite a beautiful spot for camping this Christmas. I found this branch down on a trail by the beach. My friend Cheryl and I decorated it. It’s looking pretty nice around here; I’m doing familiar things in different ways. Pilgrim’s quite a girl. Beautiful! There was a cold wind last night and I was as warm as could be. Yeah. It’s a beautiful spot on the river with a fire, a flag that says, “my happy place,” and a centerpiece my friend Marlene made. She’s the one who made the memory quilt with Steve’s shirts. This is a great place; I have friends coming down and bringing pizza for supper. I’m enjoying a nice spot. Last night I was not quite settled. But tonight I feel like my heart is settling into this kind of new experience. Looking forward to six more days. Merry Christmas everyone.
I remember the day I pronounced the greatest complement about my favorite person, and how it became my earliest memory of embarrassment. I said, “I love Aunt Mable because she’s simple.” Being in my single-digit years, I experienced this countryside woman as welcoming and uncomplicated. Nothing seemed to rattle her, and I felt the hospitality of her heart that made me relax in her presence. The beauty of her character inspired me. Plus, she played old hymns on her violin and made the best homemade waffles when I visited my cousins on weekends.
But when I made that statement about loving to be with my simple aunt, the adults in the room missed the innocence of my statement and burst into laughter. They exposed the opposite of what I meant. They said that simple meant “simpleton” or someone who is stupid, who lacks intelligence or has no common sense. In retrospect I suppose it was quite a funny statement to make (and it became a joke in years to come), but my love for my aunt with the hospitable heart makes me take pause and smile today.
I still value a simple life—simple as in uncomplicated, relaxed, and uncluttered by thoughts or too much stuff. It seems out of reach in the busyness of (even) a good life. But as another Thanksgiving passes, I feel the tug to slow down, breathe, and become that “simple” presence that inspired me as a child.
The Treasure: Kindness, a word of encouragement, a quiet faith, or fellowship around homemade waffles may influence a child or change the trajectory of a life.
If you’d rather read than watch the video, here’s the full video transcript:
The earliest memory I have of my aunt is the day she put me on the back of her old horse named Fury, and we rode down to the blueberry patch on her one hundred acres of land in New England and had lunch there—blueberry muffins and a sweet time together. I’m thinking about Aunt Mabel today because I actually need someone to inspire me. I think I need a little encouragement, so I’m walking a trail remembering her—how she lived as a woman, as a widow, as a mom, as my Aunt Mabel. She was a devout woman of God; she loved her family; she loved me. The thing about her that I remember often is that she befriended people who didn’t have friends, and everyone felt welcome at her table. I loved sitting with her and hearing her. One day she sent me a card that said, “Some people walk by faith … with you it looks more like dancing.” I don’t feel like that’s true of me today, but it still inspires me to take the next step, to keep going beyond the fence where Pilgrim is. That’s what she did. She travelled, she revisited old relationships, dealt with difficulties in her life, in her family, and encouraged people greatly. So, I am looking back—looking with gratitude that there are people who inspire me along the way to live and love well.
