Breathing In and Lightening Up
Table Talk
Setting the Table
You are welcome here. Come just as you are, bringing whatever is on your heart today. Take a few moments and allow yourself to just be. Take a couple deep breaths, grab yourself a cup of coffee, light a candle, do something that brings you comfort. Allow yourself to be present in this moment.
How might we go through our day differently if, when we feel fear creeping in, we take a moment to breathe deeply and feel God’s presence?
Take it easy, take it easy
Don't let the sound of your own wheels drive you crazy
Lighten up while you still can
Don't even try to understand
Just find a place to make your stand and take it easy
— “Take It Easy”, Eagles
Matthew 11:28
Come to me, all you who are weary and burdened, and I will give you rest.
Matthew 6:25-27
Therefore I tell you, do not worry about your life, what you will eat or drink; or about your body, what you will wear. Is not life more than food, and the body more than clothes? Look at the birds of the air; they do not sow or reap or store away in barns, and yet your heavenly Father feeds them. Are you not much more valuable than they? Can any one of you by worrying add a single hour to your life?
Food For Thought
This past summer, I went on my first spiritual retreat. It was a memorable, profound experience. Over the course of the weekend, we held meaningful conversations, shed tears, practiced rest, allowed ourselves to play, and learned to pay attention. Throughout the retreat, we were periodically invited to take a "holy pause"—to become still and notice what we were receiving through our senses, through one another, and through the Holy Spirit.
As I practiced paying attention, I became keenly aware of how ever-present fear is in my mind, often creeping in just as I begin to experience a moment of peaceful stillness.
On the second day, I wandered into a prayer garden surrounded by woods. I sat on a bench and let the sounds of nature wash over me. I felt calm until a sudden noise behind me made me whip around to find... a squirrel. Just a squirrel, skittering with its little squirrel friend up a tree.
I exhaled and tried to relax.
A few moments later, something tickled my foot. I looked down to find a tiny spider making its way across my flip-flop. I shook it off and tried to recenter myself, but it was no use. Every time peace began to settle in, it was interrupted by the fear of what might be creeping up behind me or crawling up my arm. Eventually, I gave up and headed back inside.
That evening, we were invited to walk a stone labyrinth. We entered one by one, carrying a prayer in our hearts, slowly following the winding path toward the center. There we were invited to pause, listen for God, and then step aside so the next person could enter.
I carried a prayer that weighed heavily on me. When I reached the center, I stood with open palms, ready to hear whatever God wanted to say.
Nothing.
Not a peep.
I waited, increasingly aware of the growing line behind me. Instead of listening for God, I found myself worrying that I was holding everyone up. Finally, I slipped away with a new plan: "I'll go to the chapel and have my alone time with God."
The chapel was blissfully quiet. I settled into a pew, closed my eyes, and took in the silence.
Then a stray hair started tickling my head.
I tried to ignore it, but finally reached up to brush it away and felt... a bug in my hair.
More bugs?!
I flew into a full-on fit—squealing, shaking my head, and swatting wildly until the bug floated away, completely unaware that it had just ruined my peaceful moment.
And then, in the middle of all that flailing, I finally felt God speak.
"My sweet girl, you need to lighten up. You've been trying so hard to hear me. I'm already here."
It was exactly what I needed to hear.
I've realized that's often how my mind works. Just when peace begins to settle in, worry rushes in to fill the silence. Sometimes it's something as small as a squirrel or a bug. Other times it's much heavier—the kinds of worries that feel impossible to outrun.
But then I remember God's promises: to provide for us in our times of need and to give us rest when we are weary. I'm reminded that God never intended for me to live crushed beneath the weight of my worries.
God designed me for joy.
God designed me for peace.
I believe God wants me to enjoy the beauty of creation without fearing every creature that shares it with me. I believe God wants me to trust that when I'm walking a prayerful journey with others, they are not rushing me but holding space for me as I wait and listen.
And I believe God wants me to lighten up.
Not because life isn't hard or because there aren't real things to worry about, but because so much of the time I'm exhausting myself trying to find a God who has been with me all along.
I don't especially enjoy bugs in my hair or spiders crawling across my foot. But now, when I encounter them, they remind me to loosen my grip on worry, take a deep breath, and trust that God is already here.
Sometimes our worries can feel overwhelming. Take a few minutes alone and either write down or speak aloud the worries that are weighing heavily on you. Sometimes, simply getting them out of our heads can take their power away.
If there’s a public labyrinth in your area, practice walking meditation! Or, simply use a printable finger labyrinth. Slowly trace the path, either with your feet or finger, focusing only on the step right in front of you. Take note of how you felt before and after the labyrinth.
For a printable version of today's reflection Click Here!
Blessing
Gracious God,
You are always near, even when our minds are racing and our hearts are restless. Teach us to pause. Open our eyes to your presence in the beauty of creation, in the kindness of those around us, in moments of silence, and even in the unexpected interruptions that invite us to let go. Fill our hearts with the joy and peace you created us to know.
Amen.
A little Table Talk for your table...
When have you noticed your fears interrupting your joy or sense of peace?
What reminders would encourage resilience in future moments? Is there a mantra, phrase, or prayer you can offer yourself or others for such times?
As you move through your day, take a moment to notice one small reminder of care woven into the beauty of creation: birds tending their young, flowers of different shapes and colors, a spider weaving its web. Draw a picture or write a poem about what you observe, or share that noticing with another.
Try taking it to the Kids Table...
Talk with your kiddos about some fears they may experience from time to time. What are some things that bring them comfort when those fears arise?
Jesus reminds us that we can notice God’s care and love in the world around us. What are the things we can notice that remind us of God’s love and care for us and the world?
How can we practice paying attention to the world around us? Pause today, and take a moment to notice one small thing you haven’t before. Draw a picture of it if you’d like.
Meet This WEek’s Writer...
June Dare Bunce is a native North Carolinian and one of the founders of The Welcome Table. Outside of TWT, she’s been a professional actor since 2009 and has had the honor and pleasure of working as a drama instructor for organizations such as The Harlem Children’s Zone and the YMCA. When she’s not working on a script or at the office, you can either find her at the gym or on the yoga mat, walking around whatever town she’s living in at the moment, or working on the art of relaxing at home (it really is a skill).
To hear more from June throughout the week, follow along on our Instagram!