Sabbath: the seventh day of the week observed from Friday evening to Saturday evening as a day of rest and worship by Jews and some Christians; often observed on Sunday among Christians as a day of rest and worship; a time of rest; abstaining from work
There is simply something about summer that leaves me yearning for quiet, slow, sunny mornings and extra time under the stars late at night. Somehow, exploring Sabbath rest comes more easily in the summer. The days get longer and time seems to slow down, even though my task list, chores, and never ending ideas continue no matter the season. Yet, summer days help me embrace the concept of Sabbath a bit more freely than other times of the year.
I don’t know about you, but my Sabbath time is not often scheduled on one set day of the week as the definition suggests. Since my retreat and workshop work often continues throughout the weekend, it’s challenging to always find Sabbath on Sundays. Many of us work varied hours, and those of us who are caregivers or parents know this type of work cannot be unscheduled on certain days. Those who work in the church or other ministry settings often share with me that Sunday is far from a day in which they abstain from work. Can we, too, discover Sabbath rest and might it be easier than expected in the summer?
Amidst the ongoing duties of life, new rules seem to take effect in the summer for our family. Or, maybe it’s less rules? A teen who calls to stay over and spend the night at his grandmother’s house rather than come home (he knows his room looks like a tornado hit and avoids this duty at all costs), yet I agree. A newsletter that has a deadline, but instead, a yoga mat, some homemade kombucha, and a lovely back porch (from where I cannot escape the loud construction of a new home next door) call more loudly and I easily unplug. And a day that should have involved household cleaning - instead I find myself loading my Kindle with tons of library books. Free fiction and summer - that’s my Sabbath.
Today I sat in silence and wondered - rest and worship come easy for me. Yet why is it sometimes hard to abstain from work? Is it because there are so many great ideas brewing in my creative heart? There are not enough hours, even on a long summer day to tackle everything God has planted inside me (and the stuff I avoid too, like laundry). How do I step away from "work" and lean in to my own soul care? Here are five soul care tips for exploring Summer Sabbath:
This summer I am definitely not tossing my ideas or creative spirit - these are not work. I am exploring Sabbath rest and discovering time apart from work (like my computer screen) more freely. I desire to embrace soaking up the sun, sleeping plenty, keeping safe boundaries for my social media time, savoring my senses, and discovering plenty of silly fun! Will you join me in this and keep me accountable as well?
What does your summer Sabbath look like? How do you make space away from your work? Is that easy or difficult in this season of summer?
By the way, I was inspired to write this post as one of my fellow Upper Room authors, J. Dana Trent, is releasing a book on the topic of Sabbath this fall. I’m excited to dive in (I might just get a sneak preview, one of the perks of “working” alongside her). Yet reading her words will not be work for me. Sabbath, this summer I’m ready to embrace you! Stay tuned for the release of For Sabbath’s Sake!
Write A Poem
by Whitney R. Simpson
Write a poem
to free your spirit
and not be led astray
Listening from within
is the only way
to discover the wisdom
of God today
It isn't found in scrolling
or opinion or polls
God whispers through creation
into your soul
What do you see, hear, feel, notice
around you today?
Let go of the external stimulation
drawing you away
Lean in and listen
only God makes you whole
What's that whisper deep inside
inviting you to stay?
Write a poem
to free your spirit
and not be led astray
And the day came when the risk to remain tight in a bud was more painful than the risk it took to blossom. - Anaïs Nin
It feels risky to blossom. Yet blooming is happening everywhere!
May is the season in which the roses in my back yard are in full bloom. I paused yesterday in amazement at the number of buds opening up in the last week. It is also the month that I am excited to share with you some blossoming news!
First, I will be blooming in a new location. Just as I let go of "figuring out" what is next on this journey, an opportunity to partner with Bloom Yoga Studio (located at The Mill in Lebanon, Tennessee) has appeared. I will be offering yoga and meditation classes, private and group spiritual direction sessions, as well as workshops and events. The historic space is beautiful. You're going to love it at Bloom. Near Lebanon? Come grow with us, let's bloom together (click here for my updated yoga class schedule).
And next, this month marks the third publication in which my writing appears this year. Wow, what a year 2017 has been thus far (especially for me - a writer who has blogged in various forms for over a decade and ever only dreamt of being published). I am humbled to be included in Everbloom, sharing my story of miscarriage and grief. You can find Everbloom on Amazon and other online retailers. These stories of deeply rooted and transformed lives include reflection and writing prompts for your spiritual formation journey.
Blooming? Stop and notice the roses (or other blooms) in your backyard. And, consider allowing these reflections from the women of Redbud Writers Guild to be your companion in this season.
Catching My Breath
By Catherine McNiel
I love writing, but my least favorite thing to word-smith are author bios—those short quippy descriptions that accompany each book, blog post, and article. How to summarize one person in two or three short lines, all while sounding both factual and fun? My current go-to bio says I “care for three kids, work two jobs, and grow one enormous garden.” That’s all true. That’s how I’ve spent the bulk of my energy for the past eleven years.
And frankly, that’s a lot of things to be busy with. I learned a key lesson the hard way, long ago: don’t get so busy that the noise of life drowns out the lifegiving voice of God.
Living out this lesson is challenging, now that my main job is caring for those three kids mentioned in my bio. My busyness for the past decade has been caused not by my own overcommittment, but by their basic needs. This is a job that doesn't leave room for much of what is commonly understood as "spiritual discipline." There's simply no silence or solitude to be found, and I am often not the master of my schedule, diet, sleep, or in many respects, my life.
I've many times heard the message: "that's ok—there will be time for spiritual practices later in life." I accept the encouragement intended in these words, and yet strongly disagree with the premise. What parents, and caregivers of all sorts, do with their energy may not be featured in classes on Spiritual Formation, but the reason we lack time for devotion is because we pour ourselves out, in service to God and others, every moment of the day.
There has been no steeper road of humility, surrender, submission, service, worship, and prayer that I have walked in all my life than parenting.
Let’s pull back the veil we so often erect between what is "spiritual" and what is "everyday" for a moment. When our hands are filthy from cleaning up another person’s lunch—or dirty diaper—this is a chance to practice service and humility. When our heads spin with cries and demands from a million impatient voices—we have an opportunity to enroll in graduate-level work on remembering God in the real moment where He is present.
For caregivers, opportunities for spiritual practices abound in every moment, if we can look beyond the veil separating “spirit” from “body” and see how our souls are shaped in the physical tasks of our day to day lives.
During this season we might even say “I haven’t had time to catch my breath today.” But of course, that’s never literally true. One task we do each day, whether we have time or not, is breathe: in and out, in and out, day in and day out. Couldn’t this be a spiritual tool?
I love these words from Gunilla Norris:
When we are born, we are born into a relationship with air, with breathing. How closely the words wind, air, life, and spirit are linked in human thought. We are creatures into whom life is breathed. A word we have for inhaling is inspiration. When we are fully inspired, not only are our lungs filled - our beings are also filled, with hope, with potential, with the impetuous to express possibility. Expired, we are over and done with, stopped...finished. Our life is lived within this paradox. With every inhalation we are given life. With every exhalation we must surrender that life, for another breath to be given to us.
Whatever else we may be doing in these busy seasons, breathing can be one way of making space for God and his voice—even when we’re too busy to realize it. Each time we breath in and then out, we throw ourselves—body and soul—upon God, the One who created and sustains our every moment.
During my first conversation with Whitney Simpson years ago, I knew I had found a kindred spirit. And when I opened her book Holy Listening with Breath, Body, and the Spirit, I rejoiced in her opening words: “God is the giver of life and breath.”
Yes. Thanks be to God, yes he is.
I still deeply believe this lesson: make a place for God. But I also know that in seasons that call me away from “quiet times” to pour myself out in service, he is powerfully here, already. As long as my life is best summarized as “caring for three kids, working two jobs, and growing one enormous garden,” the One who breathed life into our bodies remains as close to me as my next breath.
Catherine McNiel is the author of Long Days of Small Things: Motherhood as a Spiritual Discipline (NavPress 2017). She writes to open eyes to God’s creative, redemptive work in each day—while caring for three kids, two jobs, and one enormous garden. Connect with Catherine on Twitter, Facebook, or at catherinemcniel.com.
I have a confession to make. Lately, I may have been stalking you. No, not really...I'm not outside your bedroom window and there is no reason to call the local authorities. My stalking has been perfectly legal, it's actually a pretty well-worn path. I did not give up social media for lent. I gave up chocolate-covered almonds.
And I've been stalking you simply by scrolling - with not one single chocolate almond nearby (although there was that one bag of chocolate covered mangos that jumped into my grocery cart, realizing this may have been a slip of judgement). I've not shared and interacted a whole lot on social media lately but I have been reading your posts, even amidst my longing to purposefully slow down and experience God's joy and delight since releasing my devotional book in January.
When I clearly heard God ask me to step back from some commitments recently, I was not sure what was to come. And, I'm still not. God has offered a ton of grace for what this season looks like. Yet I have filled it with more than my share of...scrolling.
My lenten disciplines and a renewed commitment to honoring my body have kept me away from reaching for those chocolate covered almonds. So lately, I've realized my unintentional avoidance of some things [anything, really...the laundry, the writing time, the bills, the yoga practice, the dishes, meditation] has led to me hopping online to see what you're doing. And, I love seeing what you're doing. You're doing some good things! You, my friends, are: writing amazing books, fighting for social justice, empowering others to love their bodies, sharing the word of God for all to hear, raising families, caring for the elderly and the sick, facing things that scare you, chasing slow moments, and living life fully. You are doing good, deep things on this journey.
Diving deep with God involves risk. And one of those risks includes the thrills and the dangers of discovering a less traveled path on this spiritual formation journey. For me, that means a healthier relationship with this helpful and useful tool known as the Internet. Enter, my friend Esther and her new book, What Falls from the Sky.
I was instantly intrigued by her book because I know how she lives her life - as a homesteader. What I didn't know were the details of what led her and her family to where they are now (and don't worry, you don't have to live in a yurt after you read the book - although I'm seriously considering this for the future myself - I love yurts!). Esther went a year without the Internet. A YEAR. That's a path less-traveled. When I go my entire Sunday Sabbath without "accidentally" logging in, I am so proud of myself. Anyone else?
Just to be clear - Esther went a year without her cell phone, texting, surfing, clicking. Her story arrived in my mailbox recently, and now my sleep patterns are off because I've been reading beyond my bedtime. Guess what? She sent me a book to share with you! So, not that I want to mess with your sleep, but I'm fairly certain your scrolling will be interrupted because #whatfallsfromthesky is a phenomenal story of one woman's willingness to dive deep with God.
Holy Week is such an appropriate time to finish Esther's memoir and share it with you too - it seems a perfect time to admit my weakness, my struggles, my doubts, my joys, and celebrate the good things the promise of Easter offers each of us.
What are your struggles? Do those get in your way of living fully? Could you go a year without digital conveniences? Would you be willing to give it a try? What does the less-traveled path look like, and is it accessible to you?
Contemplate and share your thoughts below if you'd like. I would love to hear from you. You don't have to comment for your "chance" to get this book in your hands, but be sure to complete the form with your email address because I would love to send this gift from Esther to you!
Esther Emery was a successful playwright and theater director, wife and mother, and loving it all - until, suddenly, she wasn’t. When a personal and professional crisis of spectacular extent leaves her reeling, Esther is left empty, alone in her marriage, and grasping for identity that does not define itself by busyness and a breakneck pace of life. Something had to be done.
What Falls from the Sky is Esther’s fiercely honest, piercingly poetic account of a year without Internet - 365 days away from the good, the bad, and the ugly of our digital lives - in one woman’s desperate attempt at a reset. Esther faces her addiction to electronica, her illusion of self-importance, and her longing to return to simpler days, but then the unexpected happens. Her experiment in analog is hijacked by a spiritual awakening, and Esther finds herself suddenly, inexplicably drawn to the faith she had rejected for so long.
Ultimately, Esther’s unplugged pilgrimage brings her to a place where she finally finds the peace - and the God who created it - she has been searching for all along.
What Falls from the Sky offers a path for you to do the same. For all the ways the Internet makes you feel enriched and depleted, genuinely connected and wildly insufficient, What Falls from the Sky reveals a new way to look up from your screens and live with palms wide open in a world brimming with the good gifts of God.
Sometimes you have to zoom out before you can refocus the camera, my friend texted me. Yes, that's what these days before Easter have been about for me. Zooming out so I can see again. Discovering focus. Discovering refuge with God.
2017 has been zoomed in so far - packed with opportunities to share and celebrate the release of Holy Listening with Breath, Body, and the Spirit. And a time to soak up being in my community offering local events and workshops. April so far has been for zooming out and refocusing (and washing all the laundry!). And I'm so grateful; the timing couldn't be better.
Holy Week is nearly here! There is much to mourn, there is much to celebrate. There is much to experience, to taste, and to see! Psalm 34:8 in the Common English Bible (my current favorite version) says, "Taste and see how good the Lord is! The one who takes refuge in him is truly happy!" In zooming out, I find refuge in God. In zooming out, I find courage to journey off the beaten path. In zooming out, I can taste and see the good things.
Chasing Slow: Courage to Journey off the Beaten Path has been my Audible read during my morning walk/run lately And wow, has it come at just the right time! Many good things are happening with the ministry of Exploring Peace and amidst this my mom asked me recently, "So, are you practicing what you preach?"
Ping. I'm thankful a mother's love can survive asking such a question. Time for a bit of self-reflection.
So, you could say that read came at a good time. Erin spoke to my heart. And her book wasn't all about building boundaries and saying no to life or stuff (well, maybe some of it). Erin's message invites us to journey the path just for us. Erin invites us to taste and see what God offers us! Erin reminded me to discover joy and delight and not to rush past it.
Yes, I share and teach and offer soul care resources for others. I LOVE my job - zoomed in or zoomed out. They say we are drawn to what we long for most. I long for soul care on this journey. I think we all do. And, you know one thing that is really good for my soul? JOY! My spiritual director and I spent an entire year exploring the concept of finding joy and delight (my homework one month was to blow bubbles - a practice I often invite my retreatants to experience). Delight! And, I think I'm finally getting brave enough to pause and lavish in it. Sound ridiculous? Maybe it's time for more bubbles.
Brené Brown reminded me recently (in one of her talks, not over a cup of tea, wouldn't that be fun!?) that as a culture, we don't know how to experience joy. We rush right past it rather than embrace it. We expect the worst. We move on to the next thing. We rush past a lot, don't we? Okay, book release is complete. Oh, well. That was good...done. What's next?
Nope, I'm choosing to pause right here and give thanks for the joy of this season, for the privilege of publishing my first devotional book, for good health that allowed me a ton more travel than I'm comfortable with in a couple of months time, and now for the chance to take long walks while I learn to chase slow. If I'm being honest, finding joy in chasing slow is harder than it seems.
How are you journeying off the beaten path? How are you chasing slow?
In chasing my own slow and finding my joy, I helped set up a prayer room for my son's youth group this week. And, I couldn't find a reflection mandala that fit our theme of Psalm 34. So, I created one! This brought me joy and the only thing that brings more joy is sharing it with you. Download it here if you'd like. And if praying with mandalas is new to you, check out my friend (and fellow Upper Room author) Sharon's new book, Praying with Mandalas. It's a delightful introduction to using mandalas for prayer and reflection.
Blessings on your Holy Week. May you taste and see, may you discover joy and delight in the good around you as you find refuge in our God this Easter season.
Kristen Vincent and her work with prayer beads has impacted my own healing journey. I have shared her book and prayer bead model at retreats and workshops over the years with many of you.
It’s an honor for me to now be working alongside Kristen as an author with the Upper Room Books family of authors. Kristen is also a fellow yogini. She shared the following reflection with me and I’m so honored to share it with you in celebration of the release of her newest book and deepest sharing, Beads of Healing: Prayer, Trauma, and Spiritual Wholeness.
Guest Post by Kristen Vincent
Our yoga instructor asked us to do Pigeon Pose last week. As my class members and I leaned into this stretch, she said something interesting: “I often find stretches to be the hardest part of my practice. There is all this sensation in my body in the areas I’m stretching, and it’s hard to just be with those feelings. But sensation is just that: sensation. You don’t have to judge it. It doesn’t have to be good or bad. And if you can stay with it, sit with it, the stretch gets easier."
She's right. Pain is, by nature, uncomfortable. We do whatever we can to avoid it, whether easing up in a stretch or staying busy when a distressing memory arises. As a trauma survivor, I know this firsthand. I spent years trying to avoid painful feelings and memories. Problem is, by avoiding the pain I was allowing it to continue. I realized I was stuck in a place of fear, always trying to stay one step ahead of the pain.
It wasn’t until I took the time to be still that I learned to be present with my pain. In that space I recognized that God was there, too; indeed, God had always been present - even during the painful events - helping me to cope. Now, in the stillness, God was offering to take that pain and transform it. The more I spoke my truth and described my feelings, the more I saw God guiding me towards a place of trust, gratitude, and wholeness.
It is natural for us to want to avoid pain. But when pain takes the form of memories and feelings from past events, and we avoid that pain because we judge it as being too scary or too hard to deal with, then we get stuck. Lucky for us, God is always present, always ready to help us bear the pain and move through it to a place of deep, healing love. Thanks be to God.
The Lenten season is here! This year for Lent, I’m welcoming more silence (and giving up chocolate almonds - yes, that’s a sacrifice). I recently wrote this poem about silence and offer it to you as encouragement for why we sometimes avoid the quiet in and around our lives. How do you meet silence?
Silence: A Poem
by Whitney R. Simpson
She is my companion
yet I avoid her gaze
She is my teacher
yet I push back at her instruction
She is my guide
yet I veer from her course
She is my friend
yet I wonder why she comes near
She is my gift
and I long to savor her more fully
She is inviting me to a oneness with God,
listen...do you hear her?
I avoid her gaze
because at first she looks lonely
I push back at her instruction
because of my own agenda
I veer from her course
because I am easily distracted
I wonder why she comes near
because there is always another choice
Yet I long to savor her
like never before
And once I say yes to her
I receive an awareness I never knew
she could introduce to me
She is my companion,
She is God's gift
As you can see from the previous post, the book signing and celebration at Parnassus was a great joy. Thanks to your support, the book was the number one seller at the bookstore and was even listed in The Tennessean as such. Truly never imagined this! They do have some signed copies left in stock, as of this week. Stop by and say hello to their amazing staff.
Many of you have sent me messages about your own 40-day journeys and your story of healing and wholeness. I’m indeed on my own journey and it gives me great honor to companion you in yours.
And you have asked, how can I help? Here are some ideas:
Simply contact me to share your thoughts. It is an honor to be a companion on your spiritual formation journey.
In Nashville, Parnassus Books is known and loved by locals and visitors alike. Just recently, I read an article from co-owner (and one of my favorite authors), Ann Patchett, about planning your travels around amazing local booksellers like Parnassus. And, if you're in Nashville, you are in for a treat as you don't have to travel far. Parnassus is a gem to Nashvillians.
So when my fantastic editor at Upper Room Books, emailed me to share that we would be celebrating the launch of Holy Listening with Breath, Body, and the Spirit at Parnassus in January, I was a wee bit (okay, a lot) excited. There is much that goes in to giving life to a book. And, Parnassus fully understands and appreciates this fact. It seemed the perfect place to celebrate this devotional's birthing. Their team was awesome. I arrived to the beautiful cover (envisioned by the Upper Room team after I shared my heart and ideas) filling the window of the shop. Greeted by friendly staff and the shop dog (neither of which treated me like a "newbie" author but instead welcomed me with open arms and a wagging tail).
Book supporters (I have some pretty amazing friends, you know who you are, thank you!) began arriving as I ran to the restroom to take a deep breath. My heart was racing and I wondered how or why God invited me here. Who, me Lord? We soon ran out of chairs and strangers even paused to join us in this very special place.
In Greek Mythology, Parnassus is known as the home of music and poetry. Truth is, I am a huge music and poetry fan! Although I'm not well-versed in the myths of ancient Greece. And, while there was no audible soundtrack, it felt like it. I was asked to read some of my story from the introduction to the book and answer questions - both of which felt extraordinarily daunting. Who, me?
In a standing-room-only middle-of-a-bookstore, I shared God's nudges and longings. I invited people (some who simply came to grab their copy of Zadie's new book - which is on my reading list!) to listen for God with their whole self - breath, body, and spirit. You see, Parnassus Books may have made me feel like the special guest as a local author (I was even invited to sign their author's book), yet it isn't about me at all. It's about you - your whole self. God created you with breath, body, and spirit. God created you to listen for those nudges and dreams. God created you to release your fears. God created you to come alive with purpose. God created you.
Reflecting in Parnassus helped me claim this for myself and for you too.
Yes, Lord. Me.
Whitney R. Simpson
• lover of the Trinity
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Whitney R. Simpson,
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