The lines on the road pass so quickly they blur into one.
Brandon and I are headed to what will be my last travel show as the Director of Tourism for Mineral Wells—and honestly, that’s exactly what life has felt like lately. Like I’m moving too fast for any of it to come into focus.
One moment bleeds into the next. Weeks blur into months. My to-do list refills faster than I can cross things off.
I forgot how to breathe.
I don’t just mean deep, belly breaths. I mean the kind of soul-breathing that reminds you you’re human, not a machine. The kind that makes space for God to speak. The kind that brings rest—not just to your body, but to your being.
But for years, hurry has been my normal.
- Meals eaten in rushed bites between meetings or while working at my desk..
- Walking like I’m trying to win a race—leaned forward, like my posture has absorbed the pressure to keep pushing.
- Thoughts tangled and sprinting, running over one another until they won’t turn off at night.
Even my prayers have sometimes carried the cadence of urgency. Quick. Efficient. Squeezed in.
And somewhere along the way, my body learned to live under a weight I was never meant to carry. A weight I chose every time I said “yes” when I should’ve said “not this time.” Every time I kept going instead of pausing. Every time I ignored the ache that whispered, “This isn’t sustainable.”
Lately, the Holy Spirit has been gently inviting me to name things correctly. To slow down enough to actually hear what I’ve been telling myself—and to speak truth in return.
One of the most common things I’ve said to myself over the years?
“I can’t keep going like this.”
But then—I did.
I kept going. Same ridiculous pace. Same crammed calendar. Same overfunctioning and under-resting.
And you know what happens when you say something over and over, but never follow through?
Your mind stops believing you.
Mine did.
And now, I find myself at a crossroads—not just professionally, but spiritually. Emotionally. Physically.
Because the truth is, I can keep going like this.
That’s the part I didn’t want to admit.
It is possible to live life at full tilt.
To keep producing, performing, pushing.
But it’s not the life I want.
It’s not the life I’m called to.
And it’s not the life that allows me to love God—or others—or even myself—well.
Because hustle might impress people, but it doesn’t produce fruit. Not the kind that lasts.
I don’t want a life full of blur.
I want one full of beauty.

I want to notice the slow drift of clouds.
To feel the warmth of the sun without checking the clock.
To be present enough to hear when God speaks—even if He whispers.
I want to do things well, not just get them done.
And that requires change. It requires intention. It requires me to stop idolizing productivity and start practicing presence.
Here’s the scary truth: I don’t know exactly what slow will look like.
But I know I’m ready.
Maybe You Are Ready Too
Maybe you’ve been saying, “I can’t keep going like this,” but you have.
Maybe your body is aching for margin.
Maybe your soul is begging to breathe.
Maybe you need someone to remind you that you’re allowed to want a different way.
So here it is: You are allowed to want a different way.
You’re allowed to choose presence over pressure.
Rest over rush.
Depth over doing.
Jesus over just-keep-going.
And if you’ve broken promises to yourself like I have?
If you’ve said you’d slow down and then didn’t?
Grace is still here.
Right now. In this moment.
With all its blurry lines and busy thoughts—He’s waiting to walk with you in the unhurried.
“Come to me, all you who are weary and burdened, and I will give you rest.”
—Matthew 11:28
Not just sleep.
Not just a few hours off.
But real rest. Soul-deep. Heart-soothing. Life-renewing.
It starts with a choice.
And maybe, just maybe, today is the day we finally mean it when we say:
I won’t keep going like this.
Slow is coming.
And Jesus will meet us there.

Cultivations
FOR THE HEART
Where in your life do you feel the blur? What’s one area the Holy Spirit might be inviting you to slow down and be present?
FOR THE SPIRIT
Jesus,
You see how fast I’ve been moving.
You see the exhaustion I’ve ignored, the weight I’ve carried, the way I’ve filled every space with doing.
I don’t want to live this way anymore.
I want to walk with You in the unhurried.
Help me notice Your invitations to rest.
Teach me to trust You more than I trust my own momentum.
Show me what slow looks like, and give me the courage to choose it.
Amen.
For the Journey
Choose one small thing to do slower today.
Whether it’s eating your lunch without a screen, taking a longer walk, or pausing before answering an email—
Next Steps for the Soul That’s Ready to Breathe Again
If your soul is craving more quiet, you might enjoy Episode 29 of the podcast: Slow Down and Experience God Like Never Before. It’s a short, simple guide to a practice called Lectio Divina—a way of reading Scripture slowly and prayerfully, inviting God to speak.
And if you’re longing to hear from Him in the quiet, this Scripture Cultivations Guide on Listening Prayers can help you quiet the noise and tune in to His voice.
You’ll also find a piece of my story in Journey to Joy, a beautiful collaborative book filled with real-life glimpses of how God meets us in unexpected places. My chapter is about choosing joy even when everything felt rushed and undone—and the surprising ways God met me there. Learn more or grab a copy here.