Summer is fading and I’m desperate to make her last. My Enneagram one self, even though I try not to show her that much in public, feels...

the rhythm of making sourdough is teaching me about the rhythm of my heart with God's.

The times I seem to need this most are the ones I don’t stop to do it. I just put my head down and try to fight through the blurry. Why??

I seem to always measure my day in tangible things I got done, but that's not how God measures my day.