Tag: rest issue

Posted on by

Meander with me – Noreen Sevret

As the early evening sun made it’s way through my back yard by the river, I took a deep breath as I slowly walked with my husband and our two dogs. The day had been full, and my mind was tired. As we walked, I listened to the evening sounds and felt a covering of rest within.

The sounds of the birds drew my eyes upwards toward the blue cloudless sky, and I simply stood there with my face lifted up, glimpsing the blue beyond the treetops above me. I asked God, “Is this what it feels like to rest, Lord? I surrender to the rest this brings to my soul; what I feel inside as I notice what You have made.”

I look out a bit further and see the river flowing gently past the land I have called home for the past 27 years. It is a place of rest I find here under these trees and beside this river. I crouch deeper to get a better view of the many wildflowers growing between the lens of my camera and the large tree that has broken off in the distance.

We found a swarm of honeybees tonight way up in one of the trees and stood watching them work away; probably honeybees from our neighbor’s bee hives. I heard the voices of children playing together in the neighbor’s yard next door, their laughter sweet music to my ears, and the sound of a lawnmower in the distance up river.

The rest I feel in this place gives me a fresh perspective on what it means to find rest. I feel it when I walk away from the work and the many things that tug at the corners of my mind. In my tiredness, I find God is waiting for me. He knows that what He made will refresh me and give me rest that I need. It’s a rest that is a gift for the weariness of my heart. A time to let Him speak to me in the way I need Him to now. It’s a time to surrender the reality of the rush and walk into refreshing rest for my mind.

It is here that my strength is renewed, much like King David refers to in Psalm 23:1-3, “The Lord is my shepherd; I have everything I need. He lets me rest in green meadows; he leads me beside peaceful streams. He renews my strength. He guides me along right paths, bringing honor to his name.” NLT


I find a refreshment here by the river and in the early evening sun. I know I walk not only with my husband but with God as well. As we meander back toward our home, the evening sounds are restful and are like a sweet hush to quiet the noise of the day and provide strength and rest for my soul.

Noreen Sevret lives on a picturesque river in Upstate New York with her husband and their son. She has a passion for finding beauty in unexpected places from behind the lens of her camera and writing about how God speaks to her heart through that picture. She facilitates journaling classes at her church. Noreen enjoys spending time with family, writing worship songs, playing the piano, reading, participating on book launch teams, going out for coffee with friends, and going to beautiful places in NYS and beaches in NJ with her husband. She also works as an office manager and writes content for her companies FB page.
www.noreensevret.com, IG: @writerbytheriver.

Read more articles in the rest issue available here.

Posted on by

How In The World Can We Find Rest For Our Souls? – Tara Dickson

Jobs are lost, pandemics hit, loved ones walk out the door and we are left grasping for rest for our souls. If we have learned anything of late, I think we could say, “Life is not something we can control.” Any measure of peace from thinking we could was false sense.

My oldest daughter was only 2 weeks away from delivering our first grandbaby when her world exploded over night. Details too horrible to share came to light and she would soon become a single mama. A little over a year later we were just about to ring in the New Year when my husband’s words became very confused and he couldn’t walk up the stairs. One trip to the ER later and a mass showed up on the CT scan.

Taking a walk changes my physical perspective and acts as the reminder I need to shift my internal one as well. I move and breathe and rest my eyes on what I pass. I find the beauty in each detail; the line of the roof, the church bell, the date stamped in the side of the building. Or, I catch the eye of a passerby not looking away in discomfort, but smiling directly at them to watch their surprised delight.

One day, I found myself alone, my feet finding the path my daughter and I always walk together. Nearing the end of the walk I paused to snap a picture of “my spot.” It’s this lovely place where the creek wanders, and the water trips across the rocks making its own kind of music. The birds can’t contain their delight and they join in the chorus. It was early evening and the sun was sinking casting shadows beyond the tree trunks while the sunlight shimmered on the leaves in a sort of dance. I sighed.

It was an exhale of all the things, and my Savior brought this truth to my hear: Daughter you do everything to produce something, as if you need to prove your worth to me.

It took a moment for that to sink in. But it was true. Even the moments I chose to rest my eyes were to produce more energy so I could work harder. I couldn’t remember when I did something just for the sheer delight of it. Even my walks had to be a certain length to qualify as “exercise.”

Our Lord doesn’t call us to criticize us but to call us to a higher place. You know it’s so much easier to see the world around us when we are on top of a hill and not stuck in the trenches.

So, I’m sharing that calling with you friend. He is not a respecter of people and the freedom he wants for one daughter is the freedom He wants for all his daughters.

He is calling us to a state of rest! Not the absence of a job, but a place free of striving. It’s a place where we spend time with him because we long to know that the secret to rest is being still, and knowing who is God. It is He and not I.

“Take My yoke upon you and learn from Me, for I am gentle and lowly in heart and you will find rest for your souls.” Matthew 11:29

Tara Dickson is a recent widow and mother of four. She began her writing journey after her husband went to Heaven in 2016 following a brief battle with brain cancer. What began as a way to testify of God’s goodness during her season of suffering, quickly turned into a passion to equip both children and adults with a hope in Jesus to carry them through hard times.
She makes her home in Franklin, TN where the hills are green and the barns are plenty.
You can find Tara’s words of hope on her, “Seek and Savor” podcast, www.taradickson.com, 
IG @tara_dickson.
She is also a devotional writer for The Joyful Life magazine and a host for the Widow Mama Collective on FB

This article is one from the rest issue of iola. Read more and purchase your copy here.

Posted on by

Laundry can wait – Cara Stolen

From the window in my home office, I have a perfect view of the pasture closest to our house, where we feed our cows in the early spring. Every day, after I put the kids down for their afternoon nap, I stand at it for awhile. I’ve watched the snow melt and the sagebrush bud; observed the cows’ bellies widen and their udders expand as we draw closer to their due dates—signs of spring and new life. 

Today, I lean against the warm glass and gently massage my lower back. I look for new calves and signs of labor in each expectant cow. In theory, that’s why I stand here every day: to make sure there isn’t a cow stalled in labor needing help to give birth. But more than that, I like watching the calm, quiet actions of our mama cows. 

Our oldest cow, 1095, gave birth to her eighth calf last week. From this vantage point, I noticed her pacing circles around the pasture and knew it was time. An hour later, she licked her white-faced calf clean and then stood to feed him his first meal. I couldn’t help but grin, delighted by the miracle of life yet again. 

I stretch to the side, then turn to face my desk. A stack of bills, an open day planner, two coffee cups, and a full email inbox await me. But as I start to sit, the washer chimes. I tiptoe down the hall and throw the clean clothes on our (still unmade) bed. On my way back to the laundry room, I catch sight of the kitchen, where dishes are piled in the sink and lunch remnants cover the island. I dash into the kitchen to clean up, telling myself it will only take a minute. With the dishwasher loaded and counters wiped, I head back toward the office, forgetting entirely about the clean clothes in the washer. 

Glancing out the window on my way to my desk, I see 1095 and her calf making their way up the hill to the water trough. She nudges him gently with her nose, then steadies him when he stumbles on his still-new legs. 

Observing other moms and babies makes me feel included. Part of. Because motherhood was created by God, and I’m filling a role he designed. 

Ignoring the mountain of paperwork, I watch 1095 and her calf rejoin the rest of the herd. As her calf lays down, she touches noses with another, still expectant cow and swishes her tail at another cow’s calf, sending him back to his mom. Then she lowers to her knees and lays down beside her calf. 

I pull myself away from the window and sit at my desk. Yawning, I take a sip of this morning’s (yesterday’s?) cold coffee, and read through my email. I respond to a few, delete others, and turn to tackle the paperwork on my left. I sort through it, tossing receipts and making notes in my planner of due dates and deadlines, but find nothing urgent. I should go fold that laundry, and make the bed. Maybe I’ll even have time to clean the bathrooms before the kids wake up. 

Spinning around in my chair, I look out the window one last time. The whole herd is laying down now, all the new and expectant moms basking in the long-awaited warmth of spring after a longer-than-normal winter. 

1095 tenderly licks her calf’s ear. I remember those early newborn days with both of my kids, but I’m  struck by how little my mothering resembled hers. While she is completely present with her baby, I behaved much the way I do now and filled every moment with laundry and cleaning and work. 

Trailing my fingers along the desk’s edge on my way out, I catch sight of the corner of my Bible, peeking out from under a power bill. It’s been a while since I’ve opened it—putting it off for a night I’m not so tired or during naptime after my chores are done. But that never happens, and every day my kids wake up from their naps to a clean house, clean clothes, and a tired, worn-out mom.

Why is it so hard for me to rest and let myself relax? If God created both 1095 and me for motherhood, why does her mothering look so easy and relaxed while mine looks so frenzied and exhausting? Did it take her eight babies to reach this point? Or does she just instinctively know something I struggle to accept: that God created us to work and rest? 

The laundry can wait, I decide. I grab my Bible and tiptoe to the living room. Pulling a fleece throw from beneath the entertainment center, I sink into the corner of the couch and open its cover.

Thirty minutes later, I hear my son’s door open. His feet pitter-patter down the hall toward me, waking his sister, but I can’t help but smile. He rounds the couch with a “Hi, Mom!” and clambers into my lap. To my surprise, I’m not mad that he woke up my daughter. And for the first time in I-can’t-remember-how-long I’m ready, and delighted, for them to be awake; rejuvenated and refreshed by God’s word.  

Cara Stolen is a ranch wife and work-at-home mama of two living in rural Washington state. She loves exceptionally early mornings, strong black coffee, and listening to her children giggle. You can find her hiding in her pantry sneaking chocolate chips by the handful, or on Instagram (@carastolen). She has been published previously by Coffee + Crumbs and Holl & Lane Magazine, and writes occasionally at www.carastolen.com.

This is one of the articles from the rest issue. Read more about it and buy it here.

Posted on by

An invitation – Harriet Calfo

Take me into the loving embrace of the fields,
the warm blush of blossom,
the restorative hue of the Malus tree.

Bluebells strike the air with
stalks of blue and purple,
fading daffodils dance in the breeze.

Come with me, He says,
Dance with me, I will enfold
you in My Love, Divine, unbounded.

Let, and see.

Harriet Calfo is an artist at heart and loves capturing God’s creativity through photography, art, textiles and poetry. She loves anything turquoise, especially the sea.
She is a Spiritual Director and runs art retreats where she loves to see people discover and flourish in their God-given gift of creativity that she believes everyone has. Her mantra is, ‘it’s not about the product, it’s about the process.’ She is on a life journey of learning to be her true-self through Gods tender care.
Her other passion is to see modern day slavery eradicated and loves being an ambassador for the amazing charity Unseen. She is blessed to live in the beautiful and inspiring Cotswolds with her family and dog.
IG: @harrietcalfodesigns

This is a poem from iola the rest issue. Read more about it and buy it here.

Posted on by

Rhythms of Rest – Kristin Vanderlip

Then, because so many people were coming and going that they did not even have a chance to eat, [Jesus] said to them, ‘Come with me by yourselves to a quiet place and get some rest.” Mark 6:31 NIV

When sharp words dart from my mouth before I’m even aware that they’ve formed on my tongue. When the muscles in my shoulders grow tense and ache as though I’ve just finished lifting with a heavy set of weights. When a thick fog fills my mind with a swelling effect that throbs and causes my thoughts to lose clarity. When I suddenly realized that it’s been awhile since I’d last taken a breath. I now see these moments as hazard lights flashing neon yellow to warn me about the dangerous territory I’m expecting my mind, body, and spirit to function in. I focus in on the issue at hand: an absence of rest. 

I know I must get away and rest. Not only does my body demand attention to this that I can no longer ignore, but Scripture tells me. It appears in Mark 6:31 and in Matthew 11:28 where Jesus tells me to come to Him and He will give me rest. I know that rest is so important that God commands His people to carve out a ritual of rest (Exodus 20:8-11). But when is the last time I truly observed the Sabbath in my life? 

Based on the neon yellow warning signs flashing around me, it’s been far too long.

I used to imagine the type of rest God talks about as a picturesque escape to a cabin in the words or at a vineyard in Italy on vacation. 

Near impossible, right? How do I find rest in my real, everyday, ordinary life when the schedule is unforgiving and responsibilities pile up faster than the laundry? 

I must find a rhythm of rest for my soul to be well. I’ve learned to think intentionally and creatively about rest. 

Now rest might come as I deepen my inhalation and lengthen my exhalation wherever I am. Sometimes I close my eyes as I breathe and visualize my breath. I mentally watch as stress and angst leave my mouth slowly and controlled. As I inhale through my nose, I breathe in a prayer, sometimes even using this verse from Mark as a breath payer. In a matter of 60 seconds, I have found a moment of rest. 

Some days I carve out 5 minutes from my schedule and find rest as I step outside. I plant my feet in the earth and lift my gaze to the vast sky above me. Maybe I’m not surrounded by the peaceful rolling hills in the Tuscan countryside. Maybe I’m standing in my driveway in middle Tennessee. But it doesn’t matter because I’m outdoors finding spiritual whitespace (as Christian author Bonnie Gray likes to call it) and breathing in the fresh crisp air. I’m away from screens and walls and all things confining and in the open expanse of creation, near nature, near God. Or maybe I walk around the block or sit on the concrete steps of my front porch or lay down on the lush green grass. Exactly how I spend my 5 minutes outside doesn’t matter, what matters is I’ve disconnected from all that pulls at me, and I’m communing with God in His creation. And here I find my rest.

Maybe I say no more in order to protect areas of rest in my schedule. Maybe I take a 15-minute power nap on the days I find myself home despite the to-do list knocking on the door. Maybe I set limits on my screen time (and there are plenty of apps to help me do that). 

Whether it’s 60 seconds, 60 minutes, or 6 whole days, I find ways to tuck myself into God’s presence where I focus on His promises. And when I do, I am at rest wherever I am. It is well with my soul. I’m refreshed, refocused, restored, and renewed. I’m ready to serve and love and live well. 

How can you establish a rhythm of rest in your life? Did any ideas come to your mind as you were reading? Grab a pen and spend a minute brainstorming what rest can look like in your life right now. If you’re unsure, maybe come return here after you’ve spent some time in prayer.

Lord,

In the limitations and frailty of our humanity, we grow weary and long for relief from the busyness, the burdens, the demands, and all that pulls on us in our lives. You know this, which is why You Yourself provide the rest we long for and why You don’t just suggest we rest, You give it as a command for us to follow. Yet, we don’t always obey here. Forgive us. May You be with us now as we pause and still our minds and hearts before you. In this moment, as we quiet ourselves momentarily in prayer, let us be aware of You and rest in Your presence. [Pause here in the silence and stillness and take 5 or 6 deep breaths]. Lord, we come to You expectant for the rest You give. Guide us into establishing daily rhythms of rest with You. Thank You for replenishing us and strengthening us as we do.
Amen.

Kristin Vanderlip is an Army wife, bereaved mom to her little girl in heaven, and mom to her two rainbow boys. A decade ago you could find Kristin teaching English in a middle school classroom, and now she is a freelance editor and writer. Kristin writes to help women seek the Lord and hold on to hope, especially when life is hard. She is the author of Life Worth Living: A Daily Growth Journal and Living Life Well: A Daily Growth Journal for Kids. You can find Kristin at www.kristinvanderlip.com.

This is one of the articles from the rest issue. Read more about it and buy it here.

Posted on by

Creativity and Rest go Hand in Hand – Katherine Newsom

There’s something about the salty air by the sea that has always caught my attention. It’s always been that one thing of mine – that happy place, where I feel at peace, most attuned to God. 

A few years ago, we lived just blocks away from the Pacific Ocean, and I got so much joy in walking our dog the eight blocks there and back, walking past the morning smell of Kona Coffee, crossing over the Pacific Coast Highway, smelling the salt and sand as the blue horizon comes into view. If you listened close enough in the evenings, you could even hear the waves crash at our house, those eight blocks away. 

It was a remarkable gift to live there in a tiny two bedroom house, in a place where we were surrounded by gifts that inspired me: the 365 day summer sun, the palm trees lining the streets, the coffee shop and quick grocery in walking distance from the house, the sound of the ocean waves. 

It was a place where my creative juices were running free as I opened the windows to let the breeze in, played worship music loud on the tv, and let myself be free to paint… painting for friends, painting for our womens ministry, painting just because… And in feeling so comfortable there, I was also avidly writing… blogging about our trips, writing about my crafts, recording the details of our latest adventures.

I felt free to rest in these good gifts, comfortable in my place and work and school, and in return, those creative juices were running high. 

Isn’t it remarkable how much more of ourselves we can be, when we are comfortable in our surroundings, when we are given the freedom to learn and be? 

We are all created in the image of God, and as image bearers, we create because He creates. It’s wired in our DNA, to create. We would do well to learn from His example at the beginning of time – during the process of Creation. 

On the seventh day, God rested. He saw that it was good – these gifts he spent six days creating… and He rested. 

Create in the day, and rest. Do it again and again, then when you are done – rest, and take it in. Create, then rest. 

And rest in the presence of God.

Creativity and rest go hand in hand. By taking God’s example for us, we honor Him and His design for us. We were never meant to hustle, or to do this life alone. We can create for the masses and hustle for our own image, or we can create for God and be obedient to His calling on our lives. We can follow the world and never stop until we are burned out, or we can follow God and rest in His presence, for He gives rest to the weary.

When we rest in God, we become a truer version of ourselves. For it is in the mirror of God’s word that we learn who we truly are. And when we are confident and empowered in this freedom He gives, we free ourselves to be creative as He designed us. We are no longer bound by the world and the hustle and the glitz. We look to God, we look to Christ. The created mirror the Creator.

He created us. We in turn create to glorify Him and share what He has gifted us with. He also calls us to rest in Him, and as we rest, he molds us into truer versions of ourselves, which fuels our creativity even more.

Isn’t it remarkable how intertwined this becomes? In all this, we learn an important truth: we are the best version of ourselves when we are given the freedom to rest in God’s truth, and create for His glory.

Katherine Newsom is a writer, podcast host, birth and postpartum doula, and childbirth educator, who lives in the gulf coast of Texas with her family. She writes on her website, Simple Natural Mama, for Christian moms who are simple and natural minded. You can find her website at simplenaturalmama.com or
IG: @katherinelnewsom.

This article is just one from the rest issue, which also has creative prompts to inspire you to be creative yourself.
Read more about it here.