The hems of my soggy pants brush my ankles, sending chills up my spine.
Grass confetti sticks like static electricity to my shoes with each step.
I stop and stare at the horizon; my hand covers my squinting eyes, an awning shielding the brightness.
I’ve memorized this moment for eleven months, breathless with the reality. Captivated by simple beauty, I sit down and mentally retrace the familiar lines of the landscape.
Water gently laps on the shoreline, the sun illuminating the lake like a flash mob of photographers.
Children’s voices and the hum of a boat echo from miles across; the blue cloudless sky meets inky indigo water. A bird trills from two houses beyond, breaking my trance, diverting my attention toward the beach strewn with sand toys, water skis, and crumpled beach towels.
I hear myself exhale. And think…
Time is a relentless river. It rages on, a respecter of no one. Shelly Miller shows how to slow the torrent by fully living in the moment. On a walk at dusk she discovers when time slows, God’s voice is clear. Answers for questions about loneliness and belonging come quickly through one simple but curious word: Sabbath. As a pastor’s wife, London expat, and mom of two adult children, she knows what it means to get lost in the current and how wasting time can be a life raft. Today, Shelly guides us in finding our unique rhythms of rest. It’s a grace to welcome Shelly to the farm’s front porch today…