There’s something deeply comforting about beginning again. I often think of how the seasons gently turn, always arriving in their own time, never rushed—never scolded for being late. And perhaps, our hearts are much the same. They, too, move in seasons. Some are fruitful and focused. Others—well, they drift a little. And that’s okay.
I’ve found myself in one of those drifting places lately. The quiet rhythm of meeting with the Lord each morning had slowly unravelled. Not in a dramatic way—just a slow slipping of intention. The Bible sat unopened on my desk. The journal gathered dust. And my soul began to feel it.
But here’s what I’ve also found: the Lord never turns away. His invitation to come away with Him remains open, unchanging. No matter how far we’ve wandered, we are always welcome to begin again.
A Gentle Return
I’ve started to return, slowly. Not with strict routines or grand intentions. Just small, meaningful moments—like lighting a candle before the house stirs, whispering a prayer as the kettle boils, or sitting quietly by the window with an open Bible and expectant heart.
No guilt. No pressure. Just grace.
I think that’s the key, really. Coming back to the Lord isn’t about performance. It’s about presence. It’s about remembering who we are, and whose we are. And often, it begins with one small choice—a simple act of turning our heart back towards Him.
Little Touches of Beauty
As I ease back into a rhythm, I’ve been drawn to creating a little space that feels peaceful and lovely—a quiet corner with my Bible, a notebook, and my favourite mug. Nothing fancy, just comforting.
A candle flickering nearby. A vase of garden flowers. Even the gentle hum of a hymn playing softly. These small touches speak deeply to my spirit, drawing me into rest and worship without words.
It reminds me that beauty and faith are not separate things. They are woven together in the fabric of daily life, gently pointing us back to the Creator.
When Quiet Time Isn’t Quiet
If you’re in a season where quiet is a luxury, I understand. I’ve had many of those years—years of nappies and homeschooling, full sinks and full hearts. And I know that quiet time with the Lord doesn’t always look like sitting serenely with tea and Scripture.
Sometimes it’s praying while pegging out the washing. Sometimes it’s listening to Scripture on audio while doing the ironing. Sometimes it’s just pausing in the middle of a messy kitchen to whisper, “Lord, help me.”
And that counts. More than we know.
No Shame, Only GraceIf, like me, you’ve been feeling a little distant, I hope you’ll hear this: you are not behind. You haven’t failed. You are simply human. And you are beloved.
There’s no need to fix everything overnight. Just begin again. One verse, one prayer, one moment of stillness at a time. The Lord is already there, waiting to meet you.
With You in the Starting Again
So today, I begin again. Not perfectly, but prayerfully. With a quiet heart and open hands. If you’re in a similar place, know you are not alone. We can begin again together.
May this be a gentle season of remembering, of drawing near, of basking once more in the beauty of His presence.
With love and grace,