No rush.
Permission granted. To turn off tech.
Leave the non-stop.
Breathe.
No rush.
Permission granted. To turn off tech.
Leave the non-stop.
Breathe.
In my tropical childhood, I climbed the front-yard tree. Higher. For solitude. Rest. To simply be. Sitting on knobby branches amid green leaves, pink blossoms.
We live in a world of instant information.
Nonstop noise invading silence.
Multiple voices vie for attention and devotion. Some offer good messages and interesting ideas. But these too can distract. Derail.
And keep me from relying on the best.
His Word.
Him.