Tag: peace

  • The Splendor of Solitude

    The Splendor of Solitude

    On the Beartooth Highway through the Northern Rockies in Montana this summer, I drove switchbacks to the top. Have you ever been in such a secluded place that you could almost hear the silence? That’s what happened that day, but the place I felt most alone from people became the place I felt most connected to God. In that vast expanse that seemed to have no end, I felt like a “speck.” It’s not so bad being a speck as long as we know in our heart of hearts that we are significant specks to the Creator, who fills the whole earth with awe at His wonders and calls forth songs of joy. (Psalm 65:8) You can hear the awe in my voice in the video below. (Don’t worry, I’m not singing). But perhaps you’ll remember the tune when you hear the words. With all that God gets to enjoy in His handiwork, He is constantly caring for us, the significant specks that He delights to watch and bless and forgive … and crown with honor. (Psalm 8:5 NIV)

    The Treasure: “When I consider your heavens, the work of your fingers, the moon and the stars, which you have set in place, what is mankind that you are mindful of them, human beings that you care for them?” (Psalm 8:3-4, NIV)

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

    I just came across a beautiful path on the Beartooth Highway … and decided to stop. It is beautiful everywhere; I just can’t help but take it in. I feel like I’m playing in God’s playground, taking time away from everything that can call—time to be with Him and to listen and to just really enjoy. There was a song I used to sing as a kid and it goes like this: “He owns the cattle on a thousand hills, the wealth in every mine. He owns the rivers and the rocks and rills, the sun and stars that shine. Wonderful riches more than tongue can tell; He is my Father so they’re mine as well. He owns the cattle on a thousand hills; I know that He will care for me.”

    I’m going to take a short walk, mainly because my family gets nervous when I’m in desolate places. At least some of them do, but this is too beautiful to pass up … besides, I have my bear spray.

    Share this post:

  • 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)

    Share This Post:

  • 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.

    Share this post:

  • Maybe It Ain’t So Bad

    Maybe It Ain’t So Bad

    I met a woman who lost everything. The tree took down an electrical line that set fire to her log home on a mountain lane. Only she and her pets escaped. I had the privilege of meeting this seventy-nine-year-old widow in a motel lobby where she works to rebuild her life.

    The resilience in her voice and her gratitude for the outpouring of comfort and support in her community made me take pause for the next hour and listen. Then she locked her eyes with mine and said, “Maybe starting all over ain’t so bad after all.”

    My new friend is choosing to find the riches within her suffering. Dr. Robert Grant writes:

    “All [victims] must come to accept that life involves a series of losses that have the potential to hollow them out [missing their inherent] riches … [becoming] detached critics rather than vital participants in life.”1

    We might not be able to say, “Maybe starting over ain’t so bad after all.” But God’s promise to watch over us and to never sleep (Psalm 121) can inspire us to participate fully in life (see video).

    1 Robert Grant PhD, The Way of the Wound, (Oakland: copyright by Robert Grant 1996),

      The Treasure:  Our help comes from the Maker of heaven and earth who never slumbers.

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

      The day is settling down; you can hear the birds, and I’m looking out to the mountains. I’m in Orange, Virginia and I’ll be picking up Pilgrim in the morning and taking her back home with her new air conditioner. It’s so beautiful here! I love the sky; I love what it means…such a great Creator that we have. And I love that He’s awake all the time. The sun may sleep and hopefully we sleep but I love that He never sleeps. Psalm 121 says, “I lift up my eyes to the hills. Where does my help come from? My help comes from the Lord, the Maker of heaven and earth. He will not let your foot slip. Indeed, he who watches over you will not slumber nor sleep. The Lord watches over you.” It says, “He will watch over your life. He will watch over your coming and going both now and forever. That’s what I think of when I see the mountains … well, that’s not all I think of. Sometimes I think about how I want to be in them and walk trails in them. but for tonight I’m at this very economical hotel called Round Hill Inn, in Orange—$120.00 total for the night. It’s really a sweet spot. It’s time for a few laps in the pool. Wish you could be here with me, but there’s no one in the pool right now.

      Share this post: