I’m still thinking about seasons, and the unexpected rewards and challenges that come with change, and something I read in my morning meanderings gives me pause.

Contentment. The word seems bolded in the essay but the emphasis is in my mind alone, and I realize I’ve drifted and need to correct course. Trust. That’s another one, and I’m chagrined to realize I haven’t been walking out what I believe in the way I want to. Finally, purpose. Not mine, but the Divine.

In this season, which, on the outside, doesn’t look all that different from the one that preceded it, I’ve relaxed my grasp on these three. I think about some words I wrote on an index card yesterday to remind myself of some things I need to be reminded of: Be careful. Understand. Give thanks.

It’s not complicated, but it’s not easy either. Words on index cards help. And intention. Most of all, Love.

I’m leaning in to the sweetest thing today. Beginning again.



I’m a writer, reader, and creative. I thought by now I’d have things figured out, but I keep coming up with more questions. I think that’s okay. I’m here most mornings pondering ordinary things and the thin places where faith intersects.
  1. You inspire me, and others, to be self aware and create more space for the divine. Thank you, Linda.

    1. What a kind thing to say, Marian. Thank you.

  2. I so enjoy your thoughtful posts. Contentment is such a lovely word. I realise I prefer ‘content’ to ‘happy’ …

    1. Thanks so much for your kind words, Alexa. I agree: contentment is a lovely word and a profound gift.

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