We spent six days in northern Michigan lake country with no Internet, cell or data connection.
No suffocating sense of competition or comparison either.
Gets a girl thinking real hard about this online space we all spend so much time in. And wondering how to carve out quiet, safe spaces for the soul to remember it is beloved, pursued, cherished and called in the midst of the chaos we wade through every day.
The sky was so big and the water so wide it made me feel small in all the right ways.
Not because my house is too small or my blog or book or online presence is small compared to someone else’s. No, it made me feel small because that’s the appropriate reaction for a human being to have when she tilts her head back and gets a glimpse of the God who sculpted all that awesome with His bare hands.
The horizon that aches on forever and the tiny minnows that dart and dash between my sons’ toes. How the same God breathed life into both. The daunting expanse of the cosmos stretched out above us like a hammock and the sand that sifts and squishes beneath our feet.
I am so small in that context. And it’s a relief.
Because we were not built for big.