Abide in March

Yes, this year, my One Word is Abide. It sounded quiet and peaceful when I chose it. But now, I see how much I need it—especially in a world that feels heavy and uncertain.

🌹Big thanks to Lisa for the idea behind these three reflections (below)—so helpful!

1. Abide in a Time of Worry

Every day there’s new political tension, new headlines, new reasons to worry. I catch myself scrolling, wondering…

What will Russia do next? What if something happens to the nuclear plant in Ukraine? (We have iodine tablets in the kitchen—just in case the wind blows this way 😉). And then there’s the Middle East. Israel. Violence. Fear.

It’s easy to get overwhelmed. And I’ve responded wrong sometimes. I once wrote a sarcastic piece about Trump. Another time, a short story about boycotting American products. They were creative—but I didn’t feel peace afterward. Just more noise in my soul.

What did bring peace?
Sitting with Jesus.
Letting the news go.
Praying.

“Abide in Me, and I in you.” — John 15:4. That’s where I want to be. Not spinning in worry. But staying close to Him.

2. What Abide Feels Like

These words help me picture what it means to abide:

• Dwell – to live somewhere, to feel safe

• Remain – to stay put, not run away

• Rest – to trust, not try to fix everything

If I had to pick a backup word, I’d choose dwell.
Here’s how I see it:

Dwell is where I take off my shoes. Abide is where I stay when life gets scary.

3. When I Don’t Abide…

These are the opposites of abide that show up in my life:

• Leave – I check out spiritually and let fear lead

• Wander – I scroll and scroll, hoping for answers

• Resist – I try to take control instead of trusting God

But abiding doesn’t mean ignoring what’s happening in the world.
It means staying close to Jesus while everything shakes.

When I abide, I stop the noise.
I breathe.
I whisper, “Lord, You are my refuge.”
And it’s enough.

What About You?

Do you have a short abide moment from this month?
A time when you chose peace instead of panic?

I’d love to hear it. Share in the comments or link your blog below. Let’s encourage each other to keep abiding—especially now. 💛

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PS I took the three photos on a sunny morning: tulips from the bouquet my husband gave me, the blue matryoshka dolls on my windowsill, and the leaves of my pelargonium—also on the windowsill

🌹Linked to Lisa's One Word 2025 March Linkup

Lucky Clover: A Spiritual Lesson

Hey, guess what? God can totally use a simple houseplant to teach you something awesome. I've got this amazing God and this adorable little plant. The plant's got a fancy name: lucky clover (oxalis purpurea). It's been chillin' on my windowsill for ages. Every night, it closes up its leaves, only to open 'em again in the morning. It's like a leafy alarm clock, but way cuter!

That's called "nyctinasty": sleep movements in leaves. It's nature's way of saying, "Little plant, the light's changing, let's take a nap!" 🌿🌙

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🎥 In the video above, you can see how the plant's leaves close and reopen. 

👀 Have you ever seen such a thing like that that?

From my diary 

2017
Okay, time for a little diary entry flashback. This one's from way back in 2017, the good ol' pre-COVID days. Picture me, late at night, creeping through the room. And then, bam! I spot my lucky clover, stretching its leaves towards the light, like it's on a leafy mission. It's practically begging for the new morning's light. It deeply touched me.

👇 Keep reading, there's more stuff below the photo.

In the midst of life's chaos, I wanna be like that plant, eagerly looking forward to the light of a brand new day. Well, actually, looking forward to God Himself. Like Micha in the Bible said, "I will watch expectantly for the LORD; I will wait for the God of my salvation. My God will hear me." - Micha 7:7

Here's a gem from C.H. Spurgeon:

Before you know it, your frown will turn into a smile. He who controls the clouds can easily clear up the sky. So don't be cryin' all night long, wipe those tears away. Let's bust out a little "Hallelujah!" Because when morning* comes, our soul's sorrow will be history. Light, warmth, joy, and clarity of insight will come. Wait courageously for Him and look to Him.

✋ End of diary quote

Double happiness and a poem 

Now, let's talk about double happiness and a beautiful poem. Remember, this diary entry is from 2017, way before the pandemic hit.

Fast forward to today, and I've got not one, but two lucky plants. Double the happiness and I'm learning double lessons in seeking God!" And guess what? I got a surprise package with a book by Rita Klapwijk [1] with a nice poem that hit me just like my oxalis did in 2017. It totally vibes with my blog, so let me translate Rita's words for you who don't speak Dutch.

Seeking God

In the silence of the evening,

I seek You

by directing my heart

towards Your quiet presence.

You refresh my weary soul,

and Your mercy satisfies my longing heart.

In the silence of the evening,

I consciously seek You.

For with You, and You alone,

my soul finds its rest.

Rita Klapwijk

Failing and feeling frustrated as a believer (yes)

Okay, let's get real for a sec. As a believer, I gotta admit, my lucky plant totally schools me. It turns toward the light, seeks God (who calls Himself the light in the Bible)! Every evening, it reaches out for that heavenly glow. Me? Well, I'm not as proactive. Sometimes, I feel like a believer who's failed the course. So, what's my move?

Jessica Thompson [2] describes it this way:

I start listing all my failures: wasting way too much time on social media, neglecting my Bible, forgetting to pray, zoning out during church sermons, ignoring the thought of reaching out to a friend who's going through a tough time, and the list goes on. Next thing you know, I'm drowning in self-criticism, feeling even more exhausted and burdened. And that usually leads to plopping down with a bag of pita chips, munching away while mindlessly scrolling through distractions. I'm desperately seeking relief within myself. And let me tell ya, that strategy never, ever works!

Come to Me 

So, here's the deal. That's NOT how it's done. Lesson learned. When I'm weighed down by sin or simply life's struggles, Jesus calls out to me, saying, "Hey, come over here, to Me." And let me tell ya, He's not waiting there with a raised fist ready to scold me. He knows me, and He gets that in those moments, I need to hear more about who He is, so I'm drawn to Him. He says, "I'm gentle and humble at heart."

Photos of my lucky plant 

Now, enough chit-chat! How's life treatin' ya? These pics in this blog post are from a few weeks ago, early in the morning. Oh, and before I go, just wanna say, I'm not only lookin' forward to God, but also to a wonderful vacation week with my husband. What about you? What's got you excited?

[1] Het licht tegemoet, Rita Klapwijk and Caroline van de Vate, pages 20 and 21 

[2] How God Loves Us, Jessica Thompson, page 182 

*the (new) morning can refer to the return of Jesus, but also to a faith encounter with Him

💜 Get yourself a funny plant too. 

🌿  What's your all-time favorite plant, and how does it remind you of faith and God's care?

🙋 If you don't believe in God, what beautiful spiritual lesson do you learn from the plant world? 

💬 What are you lookin' forward to?