Tag: A New Dawn

  • 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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  • In case you haven’t heard…Rediscover the Dance is now available!

    In case you haven’t heard…Rediscover the Dance is now available!

    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!

    Amazon
    Barnes and Noble
    Bookshop.org

  • 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. 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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    3. 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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    4. 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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