Finding Nourishment for the Soul

Landscape painting of a quiet stream winding through tall grasses and white flowers, with soft light reflecting on the water and trees in the background.

This painting grew from a quiet reflection that stayed with me while I was away this past month: Where do we find nourishment for our souls?

Person sitting on a wooden dock beside a small dog, looking out over calm water at sunset with soft light on the horizon.

What I have learned over the past month…sometimes we simply need to sit by the water and rest.

I went away with intentions…to sit by the water, study scripture, and paint. Instead, I rested. I read books. (And did some Hurricane Milton clean-up…but let’s not dwell on that mess.)

What I walked away with at the end of the month is that I was tired on the deepest, almost desperate level.

I mostly turned off social media and the news. Some days I didn’t touch my phone for hours…sometimes I didn’t even know where it was or what time it was. In the rare moments when I picked it up, I could feel my anxiety rise again. So I put it back down.

And slowly, I began to understand what my soul had been needing all along.

We must rest. And we must turn down the noise.

We must sit beside still waters and simply be with God.

And sometimes, in that quiet, we have to ask ourselves:

When everything is turned off…when there are no distractions, what do I need to nourish my soul?

My counselor often asks, Where is your water being troubled and stirred? Where is it unsettled?

What is God asking you to examine, consider, adjust, repent, remove, or release from your life in order to find rest in Him?

Lay it before Him.

Lord, search me and know me. You are the God who sees. Help me to name what must be considered, adjusted, or removed so that I may draw closer to You—so that I may dwell with You in the meadow and be nourished by the Living Water.
[Genesis 16:13; Jeremiah 2:13]

Awaken Your Soul to Receive

This time of year my soul begins to long for the warm light and the hope of spring. As the buds on the trees begin to swell and the days slowly stretch a little longer, I am always reminded of a passage in Ephesians:

“Awake, O sleeper,
and arise from the dead,
and Christ will shine on you.”
[Ephesians 5:14]

After months of cold and darkness, something in us begins to stir again. We feel it in the light returning to the mountains, in the quiet promise of new growth, and in the deep places of our hearts that have grown weary.

Our souls can become parched under the pressure and noise of this culture. Life moves quickly, and it is easy to fill our days without ever truly being still.

Yet we are invited to something different.

We are invited to return.

To set aside time to enter His presence.
To be intentional.
To turn toward Him and pursue Him.

If we do not become intimate with His voice, how will we recognize it when He speaks to our souls?

Scripture reminds us where that light is found:

“In Him was life, and that life was the light of all mankind.
The light shines in the darkness, and the darkness has not overcome it.”
[John 1:4–5]

Spring reminds us that awakening is always possible. That light still breaks through darkness. That life still rises where things once seemed dormant.

So perhaps the question for this week is a simple one.

How can you set aside time to make space for God in your life?

What might need to be considered, adjusted, or even eliminated to make room for Him again?

Sometimes awakening begins with something as small as choosing to be still.