Come. Sit. Be.

A winter reflection from Switzerland

Beloved,

I am writing to you wrapped in winter. Switzerland is quiet tonight. The kind of quiet that settles your soul before it touches your thoughts. It has been cold these days, but this evening the snow began to fall, soft gentle flakes drifting like heaven remembered us. The boys are busy in their own little worlds, laughter echoing through this three bedroom apartment that suddenly feels like a sanctuary. My heart whispers, I could stay here forever, just us.

And then the Holy Spirit nudged me.

This feeling, this deep satisfaction, this holy rest, this fullness without striving, this is what it feels like to sit with Him.

Why do we not do it more?

If we know that His presence brings peace that settles our nervous systems, quiets our fears, and realigns our spirits, why do we not come. Why do we not sit for hours and simply be with Him.

Jesus Himself answered this.

In Luke 10 verses 38 to 42, Mary chose to sit at His feet while Martha was distracted with much serving. Jesus did not rebuke Martha’s work, but He revealed priority.

“Mary has chosen what is better, and it will not be taken away from her.”

Theologically, this moment is profound. Sitting at a rabbi’s feet was the posture of a disciple. Jesus was not merely allowing Mary to rest, He was affirming her right to learn, to receive, to be formed. Presence before performance. Communion before commission.

We were never created to run endlessly.

We were created to abide.

Just before the New Year, a small group of women gathered at church. No stage. No program. Just a simple invitation, let us pray, dance, and worship. Two hours later, heaven had moved. A tongue. An interpretation. A prophetic word, clear, directional, weighty. Lives shifted. Decisions aligned. Futures recalibrated.

It did not take much.

Because worship is not something we do, it is something we are.

Scripture tells us that God inhabits the praises of His people, Psalm 22 verse 3. Not visits. Inhabits. When we worship, we create space for Him to dwell, and when He dwells, things change.

One day, when we are fully with Him, we will worship in fullness and perfection. Until then, we worship with what we understand, with what we have, with where we are, and that is enough. Heaven is not offended by our incompleteness, it is drawn to our surrender.

Here is a practical invitation for you, beloved.

Go to the book of Psalms. Take a highlighter. Slowly read and mark every description of who God is, His beauty, His faithfulness, His strength, His warrior heart, His tenderness. Then, when heaviness comes, read only the highlighted parts out loud.

Clothe yourself with truth.

Let His Word become your garment.

Faith comes by hearing, and sometimes you need to hear your own voice declaring who God is. When you do, despair loosens its grip. Hope rises. Perspective shifts. You remember, He is God. He is mighty. He is near.

From this snowy place, my favorite place on earth right now, I want to inspire you to seek Him. Seek His Kingdom first. Stand firm in His Word before you anticipate spiritual warfare. Identity before battle. Intimacy before strategy.

And then beloved, let us go.

I am right behind you.

In my new book, I speak honestly about the past, because foundations matter. Healing matters. Truth matters. But I also sense that God is preparing something new, something beautiful. I do not yet know all He wants to do with it, but I promise you this, it will be soaked in grace, truth, and glory.

Until then, grow with me.

Journey with me.

Let us walk in one direction, toward Him.

Find Him in His glory.

Worship Him in spirit and in truth.

With love, from the snow

V.L