We sat on the porch, nestled in the jewel tone shadows of our beloved Blue Ridge Mountains. I reached into our own small mountain of some of my mother’s books. A curated selection of some of her most cherished titles piled messily on a stool. And we read. My mother, my sister and I gathered in green rockers on the front porch during our Thanksgiving gathering. Mother, bundled up in a blanket to protect her from the crisp chill. And we entered into a mini-marathon of one of our favorite pastimes in this season of life. Reading to one another.

I had chosen one newer book to freshen the mix of tired favorites. An illustrated book based on Ecclesiastes 3, A Time for Everything, pairing the scriptures, page by page, with exquisite art bringing the words more fully to life. I adore the rhythm and poetic cadence of these verses. I love the substance, the significance and the swing and sway of the words as they roll of the tongue of the reader.

But what I am increasingly drawn to is the beautiful truth of this simple verse. Reading the lines outlined in these Old Testament verses, I personalize their meaning and significance in my own life, and in the life of my aging mother. I reflect on the ebb and flow of cycles and seasons, of contrasting moments.

The ordinary, the extraordinary.

The pain, the joy.

I connect the dots between Solomon’s words, his wisdom and the seasons of my very own life.

Fireside books


During the fall of last year, I scaled back on my writing life. This included some changes in activity associated with writing, reading and my social media presence. It was a sabbatical of sorts. And as with many changes, this one just evolved. It grew out of my circumstances, perhaps both the broken computer and the Thanksgiving and Christmas Holiday contributed to the break in habits, patterns. In how I carved up my days. My time. My life.

Now that I am decidedly on the other side of this brief sabbatical, I am able to Monday morning quarterback and begin to evaluate its benefits. I can label and name the desire to park my pen for awhile. I can feel the joy being restored. And I am beginning to be reaquainted with my passion for writing and words.


South Carolina seems to have come alarmingly close to missing Winter this year. At the least, it is very late in its arrival. We’ve been living with record highs here in the famously sunny south. How unnatural the weather has seemed. How off and wrong to be walking through the weeks leading up to Christmas with temperatures hanging out primarily in the 70’s. The order of things felt amiss. Off kilter.

The rhythm of the seasons was broken. We all noticed. One could not help but long for cool days and cooler nights to pair with all the twinkle lights of Advent.

Winter field


I mentioned my sabbatical to a friend recently. She is keen and intuitive and has terrific insight in many areas. She quipped, “that was a form of self-care.” And so perhaps it was. Yes, it was a way of restoring some peace, finding my sweet-spot, re-prioritizing. It was a means to an end by which I came to feel grateful again for my love of words and my passion for writing. It came with a feeling of hope and optimism which while hard to pinpoint, feel indeed reborn.

Admittedly I felt a piece of myself missing on some days. Was I still a writer, or a fraud for ever self identifying as one. There were days I felt lazy and disobedient. Had I been called to writing by the God who created me, given the passion then let it die out?

But if resting, and breaking and entering into seasons of sabbatical are restorative, and I think they are, aren’t they an important part of the life of faith? To the life of the creative? Rest makes way for life lived abundantly, a life fully lived out, as we were intended to live.

We are coming out of a time of fullness and richness, in activities and in our diets. I know I am longing for simplicity and routine. I am eager for simpler meals and a restoration of order and pattern. My soul longs for rhythms and rhymes. For everything, there is a season. Turn. Turn.

If there is indeed a time for everything and a season for every activity, there is a time to embrace and a time to refrain from embracing. Our gifts, our passions, our dreams, our calling. Our ministries. And if there is a time to be silent and a time to speak, perhaps there is a time to write and a time to lay down the pen. Trusting Him in the quiet. Seeking Him in the periods of rest. For “He has made everything beautiful in its time.” Indeed. And amen.


A Prayer For Healthful Change

Lord, call us to patterns and habits which reflect order and healthy living.
Give us a heart to trust you in the timing of periods of extended rest.
Help us to reach for rest knowing it restores us for serving others, in your name..
Show us how to care for ourselves and for others, well. To steward our lives with wisdom.
Bring us out of sabbatical periods, with our passions and energy restored.
And use us to shine your Light into the darkness of the world.
Lead us out of periods of rest, with hope and renewed purpose.

Elizabeth Marshall / Posts / Blog
Elizabeth Wynne Marshall is a writer, poet, blogger. A lover of grace & the sea she spends her days living and writing out the beautiful ordinary in a life lived by the sea. Her words may be found at her writing home, elizabeth w. marshall, poetry & prose through a lens of grace. On twitter & instagram, she is @graceappears.
  • Avatar
    Lynn D. Morrissey

    Lovely, Elizabeth. Ecclesiastes 3 is one of my favorite Scripture passages, too–in fact, I love the whole book. I think you were wise to take that Sabbatical at God’s direction. The key is always in obedience and discerning “what time it is” at His direction. I know that after the land lies fallow, there are promises of new flourishing fruit. I’m so glad that I have discovered you, your wisdom, and your writing. May this year be a time of blessing and abundance for you.

    January 4th, 2016 14:05
  • Jody Collins
    Jody Collins

    Oh, Elizabeth, I sighed as I read your lines….these words resonate deeply about rest. Thank you, especially for these lines,
    “But if resting, and breaking and entering into seasons of sabbatical are restorative, and I think they are, aren’t they an important part of the life of faith? To the life of the creative?
    Rest makes way for life lived abundantly, a life fully lived out, as we were intended to live.”
    My post today is about finding a place of listening and stillness again…the Holy Spirit puts that longing there, I think. Here’s to finding our way.

    January 4th, 2016 15:26
  • Avatar
    Leah Adams

    A timely message, to be sure. God was supremely clear with me that my One Word 2016 would be REST. I might have fought it a bit, but eventually bent my knee to it. Pretty sure I am going to be blessed.

    January 5th, 2016 5:20
  • Avatar

    “…[am] I still a writer, or a fraud for ever self identifying as one.”

    2015 saw my writing slow considerably; the least I’ve written since beginning my blog ten years prior. There are many reasons, of course, but it was never a conscious decision. Because it was never my intention to write a book, it has surprised me to feel “less than” because I haven’t, while so many dear friends and peers have. The harshest judge is me, and I often find myself wondering “why bother….”

    And yet…I bother :).

    I love the written word, it’s affecting. It lingers. It has so much potential to reach into heart and soul and do good. Or the opposite. I wrestle with the Lord over this because so far, I don’t feel fully released from the practice; and yet, I’m a stubborn soul, never fully giving over the reins to him. (The whole argument of a Christian who writes vs. a Christian writer…)

    Anyway, I’m not thrashing in this. Just thinking. Your words are lovely and have given me a little rest this morning, and I’m thankful our paths have crossed here and there :).

    Love to you, Elizabeth!

    January 5th, 2016 10:51

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