A question had been upon my heart about what I am meant to be doing. A word given to me was clear about being in a place of rest. Sometimes I don’t know what that looks like, so I inventoried three days of my week so far.
I sat on a rock overlooking my city, sharing and hearing the hearts of a close friend and making a new friend. I drove up north to meet with someone I love, enjoying seeing the hawks watching my journey along the way. I climbed under a bridge to look for the belongings of a friend who sleeps there often. I knelt upon my knees to speak the blessing for one whose feet brings good news. I cried with a friend in my office while sharing music of love. Mostly I prayed with people.
To be at rest looks an awful lot like going where I am led, loving all who are put in my path and listening with a careful heart to hear what is being spoken.