Stumbling into Sunrise

I set my alarm for 7:15, full of good intentions. I’ll be in the field in time to see the sunrise, I thought.

Fast forward to this morning: me, stumbling out the door, a woolly hat with a pom-pom pulled hastily over my messy hair, my face still carrying the imprint of my pillow. -5°C. Why did I think this was a good idea?

But then—deep, warm red spilling over the horizon, like embers reigniting the sky. The kind of red that makes you forget the cold for a second.

Back home, hands wrapped around a steaming latte, I posted some photos on Insta. Found a Spurgeon quote to match—he has a way with words about nature.

Maybe someone will enjoy it. Maybe just me. Either way, the sun rose. ☀️✨

📖 "But to you who fear My name, the Sun of Righteousness shall arise with healing in His wings; and you shall go out and leap like calves from the stall."
— Malachi 4:2 

🌞 You cannot be too low, you cannot be too unworthy; the infinite mercy of God, like the infinite light of the sun, can reach you.

🌑 "Alas, I am dark." But what night was ever too dark for the sun to turn into day?
❄️ "Alas, I am cold." But what iceberg was ever too cold for the sun to melt? What winter was ever too severe for the sun to transform into summer?

🔥 Yield yourself, you icicle, yield to the sun, and it will melt you. 🌿 Yield yourself, you dead and withered branch, to that dear sunbeam waiting to kiss you now, and it will awaken life within you and warm you until you are laden with rich fruit, to the praise and glory of the Sun of Righteousness, who has risen upon you.

🙏 May the Lord grant that it be so with us all, for Jesus' sake. Amen.

Source: The Rising Sun, Charles Haddon Spurgeon

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Do you ever wake up early to watch the sunrise? ☀️ Here, the sun rose at 7:45 this morning!

Spring is Coming, Even If I Can't See It Yet

You can’t just bike away the grief of living loss. That’s impossible. But I decided, after my conversation with the psychologist, to do something enjoyable to take my mind off all the heavy things. “Why not go to the botanical garden?” my husband suggested. I thought that was a great idea, so I hopped on my bike for a 20-kilometer ride to Wageningen.

Winter is on my head, but eternal spring is in my heart. - Victor Hugo

Oh, how peaceful it was in the garden. And that sun! Slowly, I walked along the sandy (and occasionally muddy) paths. I snapped pictures of the magnolia and cherry trees, full of buds. No leaves on the branches, just bare trees, but then, to my surprise, I spotted a small camellia bush in full bloom. What a delightful surprise! 

I walked closer, took some photos, and soaked in everything around me. There’s so much beauty to discover in winter. Even a cute robin taking a mud bath right on my path. I could barely contain my smile.

After about half an hour, I decided to take a break on a bench and enjoy a cup of coffee from the thermos I brought. I sat here last year too—I remember it well because I wrote in my journal then (and I did again now).

I now wrote: “I am sure it’s going to be beautiful. The garden will bloom again. I saw hundreds of buds on the trees, and the camellia is already blooming! Spring is coming. I expect, I hope. It’s going to be great.”

Waiting for Spring... and for God

I pondered the idea of waiting for spring, hoping for a fresh start, for something to finally leave winter behind. And as I stood there, watching the buds glisten in the sun, I thought of God, who promised to make everything new. That new spring, not just in nature, but in our hearts as well. An end to the dark culture where lies are made truth, flowers are trampled, and truth is so hard to find. Spring is coming, even though it isn’t here yet. I expect, I hope. It’s going to be great.

Just as we wait for the spring to arrive, I trust that God, who promises to make all things new, is working behind the scenes for those who wait for Him. As it says in Isaiah 64:4:
"For since ancient times no one has heard, no ear has perceived, no eye has seen any God besides You, who acts on behalf of those who wait for Him."

I know change is coming. Spring is coming, not just in the garden, but in the culture too. And I wait for my Heavenly Father, who will make all things right, maybe not on my timeline, but someday. And what I know is that it’s worth the wait. Even if it feels like waiting for spring that never seems to arrive.

Just before I left the garden, I saw a tree full of beautiful flowers. I stopped in my tracks, forgetting everything around me, just gazing at it in awe. I picked a low-hanging branch, smelled it. Wow, what an explosion of beauty. Time was running out, though—the sun was almost gone.

I quickly snapped a few photos to show at home.

And then, it was time to leave. As the sun hung like an orange ball above the horizon, I continued on my bike. Come on, just 20 more kilometers.

Goodbye botanical garden, see you next time! Spring is coming, even though it’s not quite here yet. I expect, I hope. It’s going to be great.

From Church Hurt to Hope

The alarm buzzed. I turned it off and rolled over, savoring the warmth of my bed. Big mistake. Before I knew it, I’d overslept. At 9 a.m., I sprinted downstairs, threw together some breakfast, and remembered my plan: I was finally going to church today.

Why was this a big deal? Well, buckle up, because it’s been a journey.

A Year of Church Drama

Back in 2023, my church split. Not in a “let’s amicably part ways” kind of split, but the painful kind, with leadership disputes and theological shifts. I stuck around for a year, hoping for resolution. But when it became clear there’d be no elders appointed, and the leadership steered the church in a direction I couldn’t follow, I made the tough decision to leave.

Let me tell you, it hurt. First, the split, and then realizing I didn’t belong anymore. It was like losing family twice. I resolved to give myself space to heal—no rushing into a new church. Maybe by summer, I thought.

Spoiler alert: summer came and went, and I still hadn’t found a new church. I’d visited a few places, like the local Messianic congregation. It was lovely until they started dancing and suggested we Gentile believers were part of Israel’s lost tribes. That was my cue to exit.

Next stop: a Free Evangelical Church. It started promisingly, with a prayer for unity. But then came the reason for the prayer—group cliques and division. Post-split trauma déjà vu. To top it off, the pastor dramatically lay on the ground during the sermon to demonstrate worship. I don’t remember his message, just the awkward question in my head: “How is this guy getting back up?”

The Morning That Almost Didn't Happen

After all that, I stayed home for weeks. But today, I was determined. Even though I overslept, I pushed through. I dressed, scraped the frost off my car, and headed to the next church on my list. With low expectations, I walked in.

And it was like stepping into an oasis.

A Church That Felt Like Home

The meeting room in the community center was full—simple but buzzing with life—100 to 150 people, all generations present. I slipped into a seat near the back, observing. I saw women with head coverings and others without—just like me. There was such variety in clothing styles, plenty of kids running around... A man, who turned out to be an elder, began to explain Matthew 16:13 with clarity and depth. This church didn’t stream services online, so I scribbled notes furiously, savoring every word.

And then came the highlight: communion.

This was what I’d been craving—a clear, heartfelt explanation of Scripture and the chance to celebrate the Lord’s Supper together. Before communion, the elder read passages from Ephesians 1 and 2. Would you believe it? I’ve been studying those very chapters recently. It felt like God had aligned everything perfectly.

The sermon, titled "Who Do You Say I Am?", swept away my doubts. I reaffirmed my faith in Jesus, and for the first time in ages, everything felt right. No fear, no anxiety—just peace.

A New Beginning

After the service, there was coffee. I mingled and discovered a few familiar faces—others from my previous church who had found their way here before me. It felt like confirmation that this might be a place to settle.

Here’s my notebook with sermon notes. I scribbled them quickly, so it’s a bit messy!

Now, It is evening and I’am sitting in my chair. It is dark outside. But inside, it’s anything but dark. I feel joy, peace, and gratitude.

Looking Ahead

After a year of wandering, I think I’ve found a church where I can let my little light shine. I’ll keep attending for a few months, praying and discerning. Who knows? Maybe this is the place where I can truly belong again.

One thing’s for sure: I’m thankful for today. For a God who never lets go and for a church that feels like hope

Biking to the Woods to Escape the Flu

My husband has the flu. I suspect it’s that strange new variant: human metapneumovirus (HMPV). He’s coughing, sneezing, and, most notably, dealing with a runny nose. It’s no fun. He’s afraid of contaminating me, and I get it—who wants to share that kind of joy? 

🤒 So, he keeps saying, “Don’t come too close,” which, honestly, gives me a little extra motivation to head out into nature. 

Abiding in Nature

Today, I biked through the mist to the woods, parked my bike, and oh, how wonderful it was to be back in the forest! It was a dewdrop celebration, a spider's paradise, a webbed wonderland. Without the wind, everything was still. The air was quiet, almost sacred, and I felt, in those moments, that I was abiding in God’s creation, surrounded by His peace.

Slow Down and Abide

I heard a woodpecker high in a tree and, when I stopped to look up, I saw him—too far away for a good photo, but still a beautiful moment. I walked slowly—very slowly—because, sometimes, you see more when you take your time. And no, I wasn’t having any spiritual revelations, I was simply present, breathing deeply the forest air, abiding in the stillness of the moment.

Noticing the Small Things

The scent of the forest was earthy, with a hint of coppery beech leaves and oak. Some freshly cut logs were scattered along the path, their peculiar smell mingling with the rest. It’s not exactly pleasant, but somehow it fit perfectly in the mix of aromas. As I paused for a coffee break, I realized how often we miss the beauty of small details when we rush through life. 

But today, I chose to abide in the moment, noticing even the tiniest of joys, like the droplets on a birch sapling and the spider sitting proudly in its web.

💧🕸️🕷️

A Rest for the Soul

Was this walk enough to keep the flu at bay? I hope so! I’ve just started to regain my energy after having COVID in February 2024, and the quiet rhythm of walking, breathing, and abiding was the perfect antidote for my soul.

Quote Corrie ten Boom

Back home, I wrapped myself in an electric blanket and reviewed my photos. The mist added a unique, almost magical vibe to everything. As I scrolled through my photos, I stumbled upon a quote about mist from Corrie ten Boom:

“Faith is like radar that sees through the fog. By God’s grace, we see by faith the reality of things at a distance that the human eye cannot see.”

Abiding in Faith Through the Fog

This quote struck me deeply, reminding me that abiding in faith, even through the fog of life, opens our eyes to God’s reality beyond what we can see. It inspired me to share a little post on Instagram, and I’ll share it here too:

👀 I shared the Instagram post under the photo

🌫️ Walking through the misty woods, I’m reminded of Corrie ten Boom’s words: ‘Faith is like radar that sees through the fog.’ When I feel lost in life’s haze, I lift my eyes to Jesus. His love surrounds me, and by grace, I know I’ll never fall out of His hand.

👀 “For we walk by faith, not by sight.” – 2 Corinthians 5:7

👀 “Let us run with endurance the race that is set before us, fixing our eyes on Jesus.” – Hebrews 12:1-2

😞 Have you had the flu yet this season?
😍I’d love to hear your tips or a testimony about abiding in the Lord, especially as I reflect on my One Word for the year: 'Abide.'

Is There Light in the Dark? Yes!

 I haven’t seen the sun all week. The sky is covered in endless shades of gray. The early darkness settles in, and I slowly sink into my chair, feeling the weight of the day. I light a candle, and the soft, warm glow of the flame flickers gently on the table before me. 

A Moment of Stillness

For a moment, I just sit there, watching it dance in the quiet, the flame swaying ever so slightly with each breath of air. It’s a peaceful stillness. I could watch it for hours. You?

It brings to mind Jesus’ words from John 8:12: “I am the Light of the world. Whoever follows Me will never walk in darkness, but will have the light of life.” But more than that, I remember what He says in John 15:4: "Abide in Me, and I in you."

The Power of His Word

I open my Bible to read more, and I come across the story of Hanukkah, the festival of light, and how Jesus was challenged by the Pharisees in the temple: "How long will you keep us in suspense? If you are the Messiah, tell us plainly." (John 10:24). He responds, "I did tell you, but you do not believe. The works I do in My Father’s name testify about Me." (John 10:25).

In the stillness of the afternoon, I reflect on John’s beautiful words in his letter, words I’ve wanted to memorize for so long:

What was from the beginning, what we have heard, what we have seen with our eyes, what we have looked at and touched with our hands, concerning the Word of Life— and the life was manifested, and we have seen and testify and proclaim to you the eternal life, which was with the Father and was manifested to us—what we have seen and heard we proclaim to you also, so that you too may have fellowship with us; and indeed our fellowship is with the Father and with His Son Jesus Christ. These things we write, so that our joy may be made complete. (1 John 1:1-4)

Wrestling with Doubt

These words are alive! They bubble with energy, offering me comfort, assurance, and light, especially when I struggle with intellectual doubts. I used to breeze past them, but not anymore. Now, I need the whole Bible to truly rejoice in God, my Savior. 

And that’s exactly what I do 🤗

Abiding in His Presence

Abiding in Him has become the source of my peace. When doubts arise, I focus on the One who has already spoken the truth and shown the way. God’s Word drowns out all other voices. “Whatever Jesus may be to others, to me He is, above all, God, praised forever!” 

—

😇 The final line is borrowed from C.H. Spurgeon.