Skip to main content

Sanctuary in the Mountains







Spring is a lovely time to visit Flagstaff, AZ.  The air is still cool and the snow capped San Francisco Peaks shimmer in the bright sun.  As I drove to this wonderful city for a few-days' retreat, I prayed for clear direction for my life.  I treasure these heavenly times in a mountain sanctuary far from everyday routine.









These daffodils know what direction they should lean.  I guess it helps to have a strong morning breeze lead the way! The teachings in God’s Word lead me and I heard some powerful messages. 

Your word is a lamp to guide my feet
and a light for my path.  Psalm 119:105









I never tire of pine trees.  Rows and rows of them speak strength and faithfulness to me.

Those who live in the shelter of the Most High
will find rest in the shadow of the Almighty.
This I declare about the Lord:
He alone is my refuge, my place of safety;
he is my God, and I trust him.  Psalm 91: 1, 2


I’m thankful to be refreshed and ready to engage again.  The neat thing about being with Jesus – He always whispers encouragement and love and offers rest for the weary! 

Comments

  1. A beautiful reminder of the faithfulness of our God's presence, Mary! The beauty of His creation is a reminder of His strength...especially in the mountains! Thank you so much for sharing!

    ReplyDelete
  2. Mary, I am so glad that you were able to get away with the Father and let His renewing hand rest upon you...It sounds like a wonderful retreat.....

    ReplyDelete
  3. The Lord loves for us to search out a quiet place to be alone with him...he blesses it with His peace and clear thinking. I am so happy for you to have experience this.♥

    ReplyDelete
  4. How often I talk...talk...as I pray...asking for what I want...what I need...Thank you for the reminder of the importance to be still in His presence and to "listen" instead of what He wants to say in my heart...I know the refreshment from Him is "not of this place..." God bless and protect you sister Mary.

    ReplyDelete

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

My Mom Fought the U.S. Post Office and Won

My mom embarrassed me years ago when she called our small town post office and complained about slow package delivery.   I gave the eulogy at mom ’ s memorial service, and I told the mortifying story at the chapel. Respectful laughter filled the room.  However, embarrassment doesn ’ t bother you when you ’ re dead in the grave and maybe that ’ s the lesson here today. Mom loved to send packages to me in Arizona.  She often mailed pencils, recipe clippings, bars of soap, cereal, odds and ends that were meaningful to her.  Mom never understood that her mailings to a hick town in the west take a heck of a lot longer than it does in Chicago.  I got umpteen phone calls from her before any shipment arrived and she would ask impatiently:  “ Did you get my package yet? ” It was about six years ago when retrieving my mail, Toni, my favorite clerk shouted to me across the room from the front desk, “Your mother called me yesterday.   She...

A Memorial Day Reflection

  Memorial Day is always noteworthy for me and my girls.  Next Thursday marks the third year of missing their father, my husband. So many thoughts  run through my mind.  The journey of loss takes on various emotions.  The strongest feeling, at first, was emptiness.  In a split second, I would forget he departed forever.  I imagined things I needed to talk to him about when he got back home.  My mind is realistic now.  He's not coming back.  There will be no more times of sitting on the porch swing together on the front deck staring at the moon and the stars.  He would tell me all he knew about the majestic night sky. I have so much I wish I could tell him, like the excitement of seeing our oldest grandchild make a decision to follow Jesus and get baptized on Mother's Day!  And our little Amy, 11 years old, I wish he could have seen her on stage receiving her induction to the National Honor Society. Our daughters have their own ...

A Veteran's Story

  I noticed Bill sitting in our local park where I walk.   He glanced my way just as I finished the last exercise walk song on my playlist.   He shouted and pointed to my car:   “Hey, is that your car with the Nam front license plate?   I stepped closer into the veranda where Bill sat on a picnic bench.   I noticed his Vietnam Vet cap and instantly I knew why I walked there that day.   The Marine Vet served during the 1960’s, the same time span as my husband.   Bill talked a lot about the war evoking my emotions from laughter to tears.   My South Vietnam front plate often prompts a conversation with a stranger and I’ve learned a deep respect for it over the years.   It is my way of listening to a veteran.   I enjoyed listening to Bill.   He made me laugh in spots but he made me cry as well.   Like when he talked about the sandwich lady.   “Do you ever eat at the sandwich shop in the gas station down the street...