Category: Hidden Beauty

  • A Time to Heal

    A Time to Heal

    The surgeon told me, “Knee replacement surgery is an investment in your future.” So, I smiled and signed on the line. But I did not prepare for how the follow-up pain would scare me. I said to my physical therapist, “Please talk to me about pain and fear.” And this is the wisdom he gave: We fear physical pain because we associate it with damage or danger. That’s bad pain. Agreed. But the pain of physical therapy is not about damage or danger. It’s about deliverance—about removing the old that causes us to limp and replacing with new that empowers us to thrive. This good pain still hurts, but it is achieving something better. So, in physical therapy I find a focal point and breathe as the therapist takes my leg to an “impossible” bend.

    Likewise, we need a spiritual focal point when the troubles of life unsettle us. We breathe our requests to God. We allow doubt to drive us to find deeper answers for our faith. And we take heart that suffering is achieving something of eternal value that we would otherwise miss and may never see in this life.

    The Treasure:
    Therefore we do not lost heart. Though outwardly we are wasting away, yet inwardly we are being renewed day by day. For our light and momentary troubles are achieving four us an eternal glory that far outweighs them all. So we fix our eyes not on what is seen, but on what is unseen, since what is seen is temporary and what is unseen is eternal.
    (2 Corinthians 4:16-18 NIV)

    If you’d rather read than watch the video, here’s the full video transcript:

    It’s been said that there’s a time for every purpose under heaven—a time for war, a time for peace, a time to be born, a time to die. In my own words, a time to go forth and have fun, and a time to stay home and heal. This is a time of recovery for me, a time of waiting for healing from total knee replacement surgery. I’ve been rather impatient, wondering if I will ever get full range of motions. The professionals say, “No worries. Just keep doing your exercises. Keep doing what you’re supposed to do.” This morning I’ve been thinking: What if this time of waiting is not just about the knee? What if it’s about listening … to God, listening to friends. What if it’s about rest. What if it’s about asking God for next steps, a time of personal inventory. If this is a time of waiting for you, I pray that you will have a gentle day and that God will give you peace.

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  • Bull’s-Eye

    Bull’s-Eye

    I ponder the power of seasons, months, or even the rustic smell of outdoors to spark strong memories. My husband Steve has increasingly entered my thoughts in recent days. It’s no wonder. Four years ago this week we drove to Vermont to pick up our teardrop camper for retirement adventures. It was a “bull’s-eye plan” formed during high elevation moments like when we looked out from the Rockies onto a future we thought was certain. Today the plan looks much different than we thought. Steve is in heaven and I’m traveling in the camper—without him.

    Actually, remembering Steve breathes life into me today. He’s still the “bull’s-eye” soulmate whose influence I carry in my heart—a gift of having been loved well. I remember the day Steve told me that this life is the only opportunity we have to trust God. As I continue to fight doubt and fear with hope and confidence, I can count on this: life will shake me to the core, but I can trust that God’s plan is a good plan with a future full of hope. Many of you have been the evidence of that hope to me.

    I believe living a “bull’s-eye” life is one with Jesus at the center of my being and all other facets of life finding their place within the surrounding rings. I’d love to hear your definition. In the three-second video below Steve and I had a “bulls-eye” moment that surprised both of us!

    The Treasure: “I know the plans I have for you,” declares the LORD, “plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future.” (Jeremiah 29:11)

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  • Renewal Within the Fence

    Renewal Within the Fence

    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.

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  • Balancing Act

    Balancing Act

    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.

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  • Inverted Mountain

    Inverted Mountain

    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.

    1. Relinquish self-dependence for God dependence
    2. Remember God’s words
    3. 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

    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.

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  • Lift Up Your Eyes

    Lift Up Your Eyes

    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.

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  • Do It Different

    Do It Different

    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.

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  • Strategic Withdrawal

    Strategic Withdrawal

    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).

    1 Ruth Haley Barton, Invitation to Retreat (Intervarsity Press, 2018), 11.

      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.

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    1. A Pilgrim’s Christmas

      A Pilgrim’s Christmas

      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.

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    2. Breath and Moments

      Breath and Moments

      I love New England. I grew up in a town called North Stonington, CT, just a few miles from Mystic Seaport on the Mystic River pictured above. I enjoy calming places within reach to catch my breath from the un-beautiful moments of life—moments that require me to wait for answers or understanding. Here’s an excerpt from my journal during a time that the wait felt long: I prefer my days to move forward like clockwork—a sure formula that trust and obedience breed the bounty of safety, health, and ease. But I cannot contain God to my favorite Scriptures. Nor can I dance as a model of victory over trouble—an icon of His favor. Sometimes I don’t quite like my conclusion. But my history with God shows that I would be a fool to trade one moment of waiting on Him, for quick self-serving answers where I refuse to listen for His voice or tap into His love.

      We never know when a moment will take our breath away or when another one will knock the breath out of us. If we take strategic measures to set our hearts on pilgrimage with God, we can come through valleys with a different kind of strength than we went in. Check out the video below to consider two kinds of moments.

      The Treasure: “If you are walking in darkness, without a ray of light, trust in the Lord and rely on your God.” (Isaiah 50:10 TNLT)

      If you’d rather read than watch the video, here’s the full video transcript:

      Some moments take our breath away; other moments knock the breath out of us.

      Moments of awe take our breath away.

      Moments of trauma knock the breath out of us.

      I’m here in New England because our family just faced some moments that knocked the breath out of us with a stroke, a brain surgery, and a sudden traumatic death. In each of these events, we were scared, we prayed, and we were scared again.

      Moments of trouble and trauma that send us into a valley remind us that we are not in control. In every valley there’s an undetermined distance between sorrow and joy, between crisis and calm. And although these valleys can feel like heaven’s halt, they’re also an invitation to take a pilgrimage with God.

      Ancient musicians of the temple in biblical times of wrote songs about this kind of pilgrimage. My favorite one goes like this:

      “Blessed are those whose strength is in God, who have set their hearts on pilgrimage. As they pass through the valley of weeping, they make it a place of springs.”

      One week after entering our family valley, life looks like this: The brain surgery was successful, and we rejoice; the stroke victim works hard to swallow again and we pray; survivors of the tragic death mourn their loss, and we walk beside them.

      Joy and sorrow follow us all through our lives. In times of sorrow in valleys of weeping, how have you experienced tears becoming springs?

      If you or someone you know are in a valley of weeping, my first book that’s available now for preorder may be helpful. It’s called, Rediscover the Dance, Rising faith in the aftermath of trauma. You can check it out on my website: dawnlinton.com.

      Meanwhile, whether you’re in a valley or just coming out of one, let’s put our strength in God and set our hearts on pilgrimage so we come through future valleys stronger than we go in.

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