Unplugged 🔌
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Last week a wild windstorm hit my city, marking the worst power outage in Omaha's history. Along with our power, we also lost the last tree standing in our front yard, nestled right next to our living room window. The trunk just snapped from the sheer force. (I'm sure going to miss the beautiful white blooms next spring.) Sadly, our landscaping now looks a bit disheveled and bare. In some ways, that's how my heart has been feeling this summer. It finally sunk in when I saw the broken stump. It's like my internal world was suddenly revealed. Right there. Out in the open. Backstory: I left my full-time job at the end of May after a very busy year, which included more travel than I was used to and some relational trials thrown in the mix. I sensed it was time to leave that workplace, even though there was a question mark about what's next. So I've had a lot of space in my schedule this summer. I'm thankful for it, but it's also been hard if I'm being honest. There's a temptation to fill the void (and avoid these hard feelings and big questions that have risen to the surface) with various digital distractions, especially social media. I was already feeling the pull to slow down my "scrolling." But after the storm hit, I unplugged entirely. It's like the lack of power was my permission to tune out from all the status updates, notifications, and opinions. For now, I'm trying to embrace the extra space and lean into the silence. God is after spaciousness in our life. He is limitless and wants to keep filling us with his fullness, but it's hard to receive more when we're already at capacity. Unplugging for me has looked like rethinking my definition of "productivity," being unhurried outside in nature, and writing down more of my words on paper. As much as I love my computer, there's something powerful about putting pen to paper. Not only is it tangible (a tiny act of defiance in this digital world) but it also opens pathways of creativity, clarity, and discovery. Journaling is an ideal way to process your right-here, right-now reality and dream about future possibilities. It also gives you a written record of your life and history with the Lord. What is he saying? What are you praying? What has God already accomplished in your life that can fuel your faith for what's next? Maybe, like me, you're in a time of transition and asking big questions. Maybe your heart is broken and needs tending. Maybe you're also craving some space away from virtual reality. If so, I want to share one journal prompt in the form of a quote and photo. Use it to open a conversation. Grab a notebook, napkin, or scrap paper and start writing whatever comes to mind... “Spaciousness is always a beginning, a possibility, a potential, a capacity for birth.” —Gerald May You might be blown away by what happens when you make journaling a regular part of your daily or weekly rhythm. The best part? No electricity required! Let your pen write wild, Chelsea P.S. Want more prompts? I created a new resource. (The idea came to me during one of my unhurried, unplugged walks. Ha!) If you've ever wanted to start a more intentional journaling practice, this is for you...
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