Category: Personal Growth

  • 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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  • 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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  • New River, New Courage

    New River, New Courage

    In my chaplain work with law enforcement I sometimes ride with officers to connect and to learn how to serve them better. You’ll hear in the video (below) that fear of going a greater distance with “Pilgrim” to meet them almost robbed me of opportunity. My inner spirit said, “I don’t want to.” But, God’s Spirit said, “Don’t miss it.”

    Here’s a reflection from my journal—clips of reality at the river.

    Space; alone … but not really; setting up camp; feet in the river; sunset; geese flying; brilliant black; unaware of how aware God is; rest. Sunrise; life in full color; oatmeal; peace; curious; creaking gate; police vehicle; time to ride; time to listen; time to learn; time to return; thank you.

    Another night; me and the teardrop, specks in a spacious place; solitude; peace; sacred; alone … but not really; more sovereign handiwork; galaxies; (“Steve, you would love this.”) fireside; pause; gratitude; prayer; wonder; joy; worship; rest; orange art in the sky; “Good morning.”

    We can pray that beautiful places will continually lift our eyes to the Creator who gives us courage to say “yes” to new opportunity.

    The Treasure: “For 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:

    (Geese flying … honking) I must admit – fear is a common struggle that I have. Pilgrim and I have just taken our longest trip. We’ve come from Williamsburg down to Fries, Virginia which is near Galax. With the camper it took me six hours. It’s an invitation by a law enforcement officer to come to the New River Wildlife Conservation Club and to camp on their land here. There’s only me—there’s nobody else around. It really is beautiful. Last night was my first night here and I slept for nine hours. I think that’s because I was really tired. But here’s Pilgrim in a primo spot; the sun is going down into a gentle sunset on the New River. So, we remember that we can stay within the fence where Pilgrim lives at home or we can go beyond the fence. Pilgrim represents courage to go beyond fear and loss so that we don’t shrink our lives. I must say my life is not shrinking; it’s expanding into a spacious place. But I was afraid to come. I even, for a moment, didn’t want to come. It felt too big, too far, too different; I didn’t even know where I would be parked; I just knew it was going to be in an isolated spot. But oh the blessing of going beyond the fence when it’s time. It’s not always time to go beyond the fence. I wanted to share this beautiful moment with you. Wish you could be here.

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  • A Pilgrim’s Blessing

    A Pilgrim’s Blessing

    You may remember from the video on my blog home page, that three years ago, Pilgrim and I had never ventured outside of the fence. The video you’re about to watch (below) took place during those early days when grief threatened to fill me with despair. My pastor, Travis Simone, came to give a blessing to me and the camper to help set our momentum. I admit the idea of blessing a camper sounded a bit strange at first, but I love what he said so much that I want to pass the blessing on to you. It’s for all of us. We all have a key of promise that frees us from giants that seek to imprison us in Doubting Castle. I felt as hot and haggard as I looked on that steamy summer day, but Travis’s words continue to give me courage when fear tempts me to despair. Please watch the five minute video and receive this powerful blessing as your own.

    The Treasure: “The eternal God is your refuge, and underneath are the everlasting arms.” (Deuteronomy 33:27)

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  • Wild Serenity

    Wild Serenity

    When my husband Steve died, I looked out toward a vast, empty horizon. It was neither dark nor light—just empty and wide. I would come to realize that Steve’s death gave me the kind of freedom that I never wanted … but freedom nonetheless. And so, this summer I went to Montana for a whole month to be with my fast-growing Montana grands and their parents. I stayed half the time in a VRBO. It was a really great plan, except for the hard parts. If you are living in the aftermath of loss, you know that you can feel full of joy one moment, and hollowed out from loneliness the next. In Traveling Light, Eugene Peterson normalizes the “pain of being human” and those “moments of emptiness and waiting.” His words reassure me. He also inspires his readers to never “abandon the awesome silence of worship.” Alone in a Montana mountain town, I captured a moment of balance between the emptiness of solitude and the silent worship of God under His vast blue sky (see video).

    The Treasure: “Since the creation of the world, God’s invisible qualities—his eternal power and divine nature—have been clearly seen, being understood from what has been made.” (Romans 1:20 NIV)

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

    It’s a great way to start the day here at Red Lodge, Montana at Wild Bill’s Cabin in a hot tub on a 57degree crisp, cool morning. Beautiful blue sky. I’m remembering the introduction to my blog series, where Pilgrim and I are inside the fence and we haven’t gone anywhere because I’m afraid to go anywhere because everything’s changed in my life. And Pilgrim, the camper, represents courage to go beyond fear and loss so that we don’t shrink our lives. Well, when I was getting ready to come up here to Red Lodge, one hour and a half from my family’s home here in Montana, I felt really empty, saying to myself, “What the heck are you doing?” It was hard to come away. It was a little … not scary, but a little unsure. But oh my gosh, I have been on a hike, I’ve seen beautiful sights. When we do familiar things in different ways, there are treasures along the way. So, as you go along your way, maybe life has made a big change for you too … you may not be in a hot tub at Wild Bill’s Cabin, but there will be other things that you do where you take risk, so you don’t shrink your life either.

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  • The Easy Way

    The Easy Way

    At the top of a ski slope in Red Lodge, Montana I felt like I didn’t have a care in the world. Difficulties lay behind me; challenges yet unknown lay before me. But for two chairlift rides up (and down) the mountain, I inhabited a euphoric bubble, free of expectations, bad news, or disappointment. With the breeze on my face and beauty all around, I almost believed I’m entitled to the easy way (see video).

    It doesn’t take long for life to challenge a mindset of entitlement. Like Jesus told His first followers (and us), “In the world you will have trouble.” But He also tells us that he came so we could have peace in the midst of it. He said that His power to overcome within a world of trouble gives us every reason to take courage. (John 16:33)

    I suppose it can take a lifetime of practice to trust God when what we want and what life yields don’t match up. But when we develop a “personal history with God” we begin to see the evidence that gives us hope. Looking back on what trust has yielded in our history with Him encourages us to trust Him sooner next time the journey gets rough.

    The Treasure: Swing with the easy times; let challenges springboard us to adjust and trust God.

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

    I really like taking the easy way in life. I like gliding; I like getting on a lift chair and going to the top of a mountain instead of hiking it. I like looking around me without having to catch my breath—looking around at the beauty of the heights. I guess life isn’t like that. Life isn’t like that all of the time. Sometimes we need to take a tough hike and keep putting one foot in front of the other as we go to elevated spots in our lives. But today’s not that kind of day. Today’s an easy day. It would be nice if I could always have a top-down view, don’t you think? It would be nice if we could just see things from God’s perspective all the time so that we wouldn’t fret about what’s going on in the valleys of our lives. But that’s where trust comes in. He says to trust Him, and that it gives Him great pleasure. But for today … I’m taking the easy way. His perspective is always good; it’s complete; He’s always working a good plan for our lives. At my age now I actually just bought a senior ticket. I can look back and see the reality of His goodness—of how when times were hard, He was doing His best work in me. Now it’s my pleasure to trust Him. I don’t always trust Him very well, but it is my goal because He’s a good God and does the very best for us.

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  • Mistakes Matter

    Mistakes Matter

    NOTE: My upcoming book is requiring time to meet exciting deadlines. In order to maintain a 12/9/25 pub date, I will be blogging once every two weeks for a while. That means my next blog will come to you on Monday, 9/1/25. See you then!

    Years ago I bought an expensive sandcastle bundt cake pan. And so, last week I devised a plan. It would be simple. I’d prepare dinner and bake a cake for my family to celebrate my own birthday. I had made this cake before. But in a hot second, I messed up and didn’t know it until it was too late (see video).

    The family, not knowing I had a yummy cake on standby (store bought!) showed great compassion as I placed the messed-up cake in front of them with lit candles and a smile. I lingered, apologizing for the mistake and thanking them for their kindness. Then I brought out the store-bought cake and put it front and center.

    Because it was my birthday, I knew I could choose a table topic of conversation. My topic of choice? “How can we make mistakes matter?” The response of our guest, perhaps pertaining to sports, but applicable to burned cakes was:

    “In winning you are gracious; in losing you seek gain.”

    We seek gain by learning from our mistakes. I seek gain but putting on my readers before setting the oven temperature for a birthday cake … for starters!

    The Treasure:  If you’re not making mistakes, you’re probably not doing anything.

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

    I made a mistake this week. I wanted to build a cake—a sandcastle cake. I had the ingredients and made it from scratch with my grandson and put it in the oven, but I made a big mistake. I set the oven for 475 instead of 325 and I burned the cake. I made the mistake because I read the directions on a small phone without my glasses, and I ended up not being able to use the cake, except I do have a plan for the cake. I’ll tell you that in a minute. I decided I can’t really use that cake. So I went to Publix, and I bought a cake and I had them write on the top “Mistakes Matter.” And we’re going to talk about that a little bit as a family tonight. My mistake wasn’t very costly, but some mistakes can be, but all mistakes are valuable if we use them well. So, I took a hunk out of this cake just to see if I could eat it. It actually isn’t too bad inside; it’s kind of dry, but it tastes char-grilled on the outside. And so, I decided I’m not going to make another one, I’m going to make it easy and get a new cake.

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