Category: Personal Growth

  • 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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  • Rock and a Hard Place

    Rock and a Hard Place

    I arrived for knee replacement surgery as if I were sliding into second base during a winning ball game. For years I had been having water drained off my knee, getting steroid shots, and wearing protective wraps in order to walk a rugged trail or ski an easy slope. But it became a no brainer—my knee was shot. Hearing it would be the most intrusive surgery and painful recovery I distracted myself with life as normal including bike rides and even speaking out of town the day before. Waking up (literally) to reality after surgery, I sometimes lost sight of the good this surgery is working for me. Pain can do that. It dulled my spirit even as I received abundant care. So I began to practice a morning and evening exercise that is renewing my spirit. I open my eyes to the day and remind myself of what God’s love for me means. And as I close my eyes at night, I recount how He has been faithful to me during the day. As I complete week four post-surgery, I sense I am turning a corner, coming alive, and getting closer to walking out my door and down the hill with a new knee that will open up pain-free opportunities. 

    The Treasure: It is good to give thanks to the LORD … to declare your steadfast love in the morning, and your faithfulness by night. (Psalm 92:1-2, ESV)

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

    Have you ever been in a rocky spot and you didn’t know if you were ever going to get out? Rocky places can be dangerous. We can get stuck there, we can become distressed … and despondent. But in every rocky place there are lessons to be learned. I think most of my lessons have been learned when I have been between a rock and a hard place. But beyond the rocks you can see down there a trail going out from the rocks that’s heading up over into more beautiful places. So we make meaning in the rocky places and walk out of them with our hand in God’s. Putting our hand into the hand of God is the way to live life to the full. We learn to trust him and to be on a sacred adventure with him when life seems to make no sense, because He makes sense out of the places in our lives that we feel are a waste. It’s a wonderful thing to know that we are not destined to stay in rocky places, but that we can come to new vistas. That’s my prayer for myself, and honestly, my prayer for you too.

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  • Lasting As Snow

    Lasting As Snow

    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.

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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. Grateful for Simplicity

      Grateful for Simplicity

      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. 

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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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