🎨 In the moment

On putting my phone aside. Inviting my heart to cherish every crazy, delightful moment. And the calling to release the next generations.

‘Instead, she paused.

She waited.

She savored.

And in the savoring, her spirit was satisfied.’
Hannah Brencher, Advent 2025

Hello again, dear ones.

It’s been a few moments since we connected. I truly am happy to visit with you again. Some days it feels like a substantial piece is missing from the puzzle, that long established rhythm of life, this online work I’ve embraced for decades.

Writing demands a quiet arena, an exacting urgency, a thoughtful presence. Stepping away has fed my soul. Increased my bandwidth. And enabled me to be fully present to all that has swirled and twirled around me.

It’s always a good thing to step away from what you love creating in order to take a breath and pour yourself into connecting deeply with the real life people right in front of you.

Whoever they may be.

I didn’t realize how much I was craving this unfettered freedom ‘til I totally immersed myself in our family celebration weekend and never even thought of picking up my phone to play the self-appointed family photographer during any of the three parties - the graduation, the birthday, or the anniversary.

A first, for sure.

And no regrets. To be fully in the moment, soaking in all the joy, completely captivated by the people I love most - their presence, their conversation, their antics.

There’s a kind of sheer glory, this realization yet again, that these are the good old days. And the stark reality that family gatherings just might become fewer as those I love move ahead into their adult lives. Education. Relationships. Escapades. Callings.

Still very much a vibrant part of this growing extended family, yet figuring out who they are becoming, creating their own unique pathways, hopefully following God’s lead to places yet unknown.

There’s a very peaceful offering in holding the next generations loosely yet loving them lavishly, banging on heaven’s door for their unique needs, releasing them over and over again into God’s care. Sitting back and watching expectantly sure beats painfully clutching with desperate, fearful hands. Trying to control, manipulate. Rescue, fix, or save.

Fully believing that God is perfectly willing and able to do ‘more than we can ask or imagine’ in their lives (Ephesians 3:20), and in our lives too, as we continue the joyful task of releasing, cheering them on, and sharing our well-worn opinions only upon request.

I can’t think of a place I’d rather be than in the center of His call to love well. And to leave the results in His all wise yet tender keeping.

Linda