Go Back to the Garden

Once upon a time, there was a girl who couldn’t knit. Or crochet. Math confused her. Baking? Just about okay — if no one looked too closely. Home wasn’t exactly a cheerful place either. Not much laughter. But she had something else. She saw beauty in flowers. In the way light touched a poppy. In how even a tired dandelion still looked alive.

She wandered through the garden, took photos, and posted them on Instagram with quiet little captions. Nothing dramatic — just what she saw, what she felt. Some people replied kindly. A few even said: “Your posts help me slow down. I needed that.”

And she needed it too.

Until one day, someone said something.
Not loudly. Not rudely. But just enough to shake her a little:

“You should come talk to me sometime instead of wandering around that garden all day.”
“Maybe try doing something a bit more useful.”
“It’s nice, sure… if you’ve got time for that kind of thing.”

It came from someone she knew. Not her closest friend, but close enough to get under her skin.

And it worked.

She felt a bit stupid. Like she’d been wasting her time. Like noticing small beautiful things didn’t really count. So she deleted her account. Put her phone away. She bought a stack of books about flowers and curled up on the couch.

This is how jealousy sometimes works.

It doesn’t come with flashing lights or big words like “I’m jealous!”
It comes dressed up as concern. Or logic. Or a “friendly suggestion.”

“Shouldn’t you use your time for something real?”
“I’m just more practical — I don’t really get into that soft stuff.”
“You have time for that. I’m too busy.”

And if you’re the type who picks up on moods, who doesn’t want to bother anyone, you shrink a little.
You stop sharing what you love.
You feel guilty for enjoying it.
You make yourself smaller.

But someone else’s discomfort is not your fault.
And it’s not a reason to make yourself invisible.
Or to crawl away.

You don’t have to delete your photos.
Or swallow your words.
Or leave the garden.
You don’t have to say: “Sorry I found something beautiful today.”

Go back to the garden.
Because there’s nothing wrong with beauty in flowers.
Or simply: being yourself for a while.

-ˋˏ ༻✿༺ ˎˊ-

“Abide in Me, and I in you. Just as the branch cannot bear fruit by itself unless it abides in the vine, neither can you unless you abide in Me.” — John 15:4 

He doesn’t ask you to be more useful, louder, or different.
He simply says: stay close.
And from there — you may quietly become what you were made to be.

---

This is a fictional story, written for a challenge about how other people's emotions can affect you.

Sometimes We’re Too Afraid

I saw something on the forest path.

“A snake!”
My heart skipped a beat. 

But when I looked more closely, it turned out to be a slow worm.
Not a snake. No danger.
Just a legless lizard, harmless and still.

It made me think.

Sometimes I react out of fear,
before I even know if what I feel is true.
Often, we’re more afraid than we need to be.

And it’s not just creatures in the grass.
Sometimes something hard crosses our path.
Heavy. Unexpected.
And our first thought might be:
this is too much. help, I’m scared... I’ll never get through this.

But we don’t have to carry it alone.
God sees it.
He knows our fear, our breathlessness, our questions.
He doesn’t always take the weight away right away.
But He stays close.

And I remind myself: this is where I need to abide.

That word — abide — is the one I chose (or maybe it chose me) this year.
It calls me back, again and again.
Not to rush, not to flee, not to fix —
but simply to stay with Him.
To remain in His nearness, especially when I feel overwhelmed.

“When I am afraid, I put my trust in You.”
— Psalm 56:4

🧠 What looks like a “snake” in your life right now—something that startles you, but might not be as dangerous as it seems?

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. 💛

---

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

Abide in February

She stood at the door, a little nervous. Her coat was buttoned up against the drizzle, eyes reflecting the weight of the world. “I just wanted to see your face,” she said. We spoke—briefly—of the world's heaviness: refugees, shifting alliances, tragedies that defy words. I nodded, a shiver running through me—part cold, part weight of it all.

“Strange, isn’t it?” I said, glancing back at my living room. “That when we’re inside at night, curtains drawn, it feels... safe. Almost like none of it is happening.”

“Yeah,” she agreed, “even though we know it is.”

“Let’s plan a coffee soon,” I said. She nodded. "Yeah, just a quick bakkie.** I’m passing through today, so I can’t now—but we’ll make it happen."

We laughed a bit, bouncing to lighter topics for a moment—funny things, everyday life—just enough to lift the weight before she had to go. Then, with a quick wave and a smile, she was off again, hurrying down the street.

Safe Inside, Yet the World Spins

Now its evening. I’m here on the sofa, laptop balanced on my knees. The room around me glows softly—the golden hue of the lamps reflects off the ochre curtains that shut out the night. There’s a hint of pine in the air from the diffuser on the mantel, filling the space with the comforting scent of a forest. It’s peaceful here. Safe under this roof, within these walls. And yet my mind drifts beyond them, to the chaos in the world, to the ache of so many hearts.

And then—one word settles in me: Abide.

Abide in Me.

The Invitation to Abide

Such a simple phrase. Such a deep invitation.

To abide means to remain, to stay, to dwell. It’s not rushing past or glancing briefly—it’s settling in, being present. The Greek word menō carries this richness: to continue in a fixed state, to endure, to be at home. Palmer describes it as "practical and warmly personal.... a word for anyone who simply knows how to settle into a genuine relationship and enjoy the fellowship and the view." I love that. Abiding isn’t for the spiritually elite. *

❤️ It’s for anyone willing to pause, to be still, to stay close—not occasionally, but as a constant presence, rooted in Him.

Finding Refuge in Him

Tonight, as I look around this quiet room, I think about that staying. Here, under this roof, I feel safe. How much greater, then, is the safety of abiding in Him? Not a place, but a Person. My refuge isn’t ultimately these walls or this warmth—it’s Christ.

Steven Cole shares that abiding involves three things:

1. Relating to Christ—His person and purpose.
2. Rejecting attitudes and actions that He wouldn’t share.
3. Receiving the life He offers for true fulfillment. *

It’s not always easy. The world pulls, fears creep in, and sometimes it feels like the storm is just outside the window. But then I remember what was said at church last Sunday—about Elisha’s servant, eyes opened to see the hills full of horses and chariots of fire. Those who are with us are more than those who are with them. (2 Kings 6:16) What a powerful reminder: there is more going on than we see, and we are never alone.

With Us in Trouble

Psalm 91 echoes this truth:

"I will say of the Lord, He is my refuge and my fortress; my God, in whom I trust... Because he loves Me," says the Lord, "I will rescue him; I will protect him, for he acknowledges My name. He will call on Me, and I will answer him; I will be with him in trouble."

With him in trouble. Not necessarily delivering us from every hardship immediately—but abiding with us through it. That changes everything.

Learning to Stay

This month, I’ve realised how much I still have to learn about abiding. And how patient my Teacher is. The best Rabbi in the world, I whispered to myself earlier this week, heart full of gratitude. The more I lean in, the more I see: abiding isn’t about striving—it’s about staying. Staying in Him. Letting His words settle into me until they feel at home in my heart, guiding my thoughts, my prayers, my desires.

When the World Feels Too Heavy

Earlier this week, I woke up to the news notifications piling up on my phone—headlines screaming of more violence, more loss. My chest tightened: How do I hold all this? How do I pray when words fall short?

I wanted to scroll away the heaviness, to busy myself with tasks. But instead, I paused. I whispered His name—just that. Jesus, help. And then, slowly, I remembered: Abide.

Something shifted. Not that the world’s chaos changed. But something inside me settled. He is my refuge... my fortress... my God, in whom I trust. It wasn’t instant peace, but a deep breath amid the noise. A reminder: He is.

That’s the thing about abiding—it’s not always this serene, candle-lit moment. Sometimes it’s choosing to stay with Him in the middle of fear, doubt, or grief. To simply say His name with your whole confused, sorrowful heart. To trust that even when your heart trembles, His hold doesn’t loosen.

Held

Tonight, darkness rests outside.
The world spins on.

But here, in this stillness, I abide.
Not just under this roof.
In Him.

Safe.
Loved.
Held.

And so are you.

───●◎●───

*    Precept Austin

**  Bakkie (Dutch): A casual cup of coffee, often shared with a friend. In the Netherlands, saying. It is a common, friendly invitation to catch up over coffee.

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.

When 'Abide' Found Me: Starting Early for 2025

Alright, so here we are. I’m doing it. Starting early. A whole month ahead of schedule, no less. You know that "One Word" challenge everyone does at the start of the year? Well, I didn’t join in. I scoffed at the idea, thinking, “I don’t need a word to define my year.” But now, as 2024 wraps up, I’ve realized – with a bit of surprise – that the word found me. And I can’t help but laugh. It’s a little embarrassing, honestly. 

I didn’t pick it. It picked me.

That word? Abide.

Let’s be honest: Abide isn’t exactly the most glamorous or trendy word out there. It doesn’t have the sparkle of “shine” or the punch of “growth.” It’s just... stay. But somehow, in its simplicity, it’s exactly what I needed.

Resting Under God’s Wings

The word came to me when I least expected it, during a season of church wounds, navigating the painful aftermath of my hyper-Calvinistic upbringing. I didn’t realize it at the time, but this word, abide, was exactly what I needed. It gave me permission to take a step back, to rest under God’s wings, and to stop rushing. I didn’t have to fix everything right away. I didn’t have to know what was coming next. It was about staying in His presence, trusting that He had me, and that would be enough.

Funny enough, abide became my anchor, pulling me back whenever my mind started wandering into the dark corners of past hurts, intellectual doubts, or, let’s be real, a bit too much enthusiasm that would occasionally lead me to lose my way. Whenever I started veering off track, abide whispered, “No, stay. Rest. You don’t have to figure everything out right now.”

Taking Time with My Story

And then, the cherry on top: abide helped me finally start writing a memoir. I’ve been wanting to share my story for years – a story of growing up in a church where it wasn’t always safe to “just be”. But now, with abide, I can take my time. I don’t need to rush through the healing process or force the creative journey. I can stay in the process and trust that it’ll unfold at the right pace.

Link to Aritha's Dutch Writing Journey Blog

A Word That Moves Into 2025

So here I am, at the end of 2024, realizing that I didn’t join the “One Word” challenge, but I’ve already been living out my word in a way I didn’t expect. And that’s okay. In fact, it feels like the perfect timing. I’m starting early, yes, but it’s because God has already started this work in me. Abide is the word that has been with me all along, and now it gets to move into 2025.

While I’m embracing this word, I’m also fully aware that it’s His timing that truly matters. It’s about trusting that He will lead me where I need to go, in His time, not mine.

Linked to: Give Thanks to Your One Word of the Year