The Sacred Spaces of a Simple Life

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There are places on our little homestead that have become sacred to me. They are not grand or impressive by the world's standards, but they have quietly witnessed the unfolding of my heart. Today, I want to tell you about the place where my journey truly began—my meditation room.

Years ago, it was nothing more than an old tool shed. Weathered wood. Worn floors. A forgotten little building that had long outlived its original purpose. Most people would have seen an old shed in need of repair. But somehow, before a single thing changed in me, I felt peace standing inside those walls.

I didn't know it then, but that little building would become the place that captured my heart and soul. It whispered something I had been too busy to hear. It gently called to me, Slow down. You have other work to do now.

You see, I have always had a sensitive soul. I have always listened for the quiet nudges of my heart. I believe we are all given an inner voice—one that gently guides us if we are willing to listen. But for so many years, I was moving too quickly. Life was full of responsibilities, expectations, and endless lists of things that needed to be done. In all of that hurry, I missed messages. I missed opportunities. I missed moments that could have changed me sooner.

Then something happened when I turned sixty.

My heart experienced one of the greatest shifts of my life.

That still, small voice became impossible to ignore. It reached into the deepest places of my soul and simply said, "

Enough rushing. It's time to simply be.

Not achieve.

Not prove.

Not rush.

Just...be.

Around that same time, I discovered a song that became part of my morning ritual. Every single morning for an entire year, I pressed play and allowed its words to settle into my heart. One simple phrase echoed through my days:

"In the little moments."

Those words became an invitation instead of just a lyric. They taught me that the life I had been searching for wasn't waiting somewhere in the future. It had been quietly surrounding me all along—in the morning light, in birdsong, in the gentle rhythm of making tea, in a quiet porch sitting, and eventually, inside an old work shed that was becoming something entirely new.

Little by little, my heart softened.

Little by little, my pace slowed.

Little by little, I began to discover the woman God had always been inviting me to become.

That old shed was never just a building. It became a sanctuary. A place of healing. A place of listening. A place where I finally gave myself permission to stop striving long enough to hear the voice that had been calling me home all along.

Next week, I'd love for you to come with me on a journey as I transform that old work shed pulls me apart. The shed begans to help me shead my layers as I sand the walls of her. I'll share not only how I created it, but how that tiny room became the place where my simple life truly began.

Perhaps, as you read, you'll begin looking for your own sacred space—not because it is beautiful, but because it is where your soul finally feels safe enough to rest. My hope is that when you leave that place, you don't simply return to your life. I hope you return to it changed.