A Snowy Sunday and the Grace to Pivot

Making Space for Peace in a Heavy World

Hello! It’s simply Sunday.

My last post was a little heavy, but necessary. I have welcomed several new subscribers over the past week, and I’m so glad you’re here. At Peek Perspectives you can expect to find a lot of grace-filled content with a healthy dose of humanity. Being a kind, grace-filled, hopeful human does not always mean staying silent and complying, hence my previous post, The Price of Silence. Often, the kindest thing we can do is to speak up for our most vulnerable neighbors, especially when it is unpopular or even controversial. Here, you will always find truth spoken in love… from a lifetime rule-follower who is learning more and more that sometimes “just following the rules” actually builds a wall between us and the very people we are meant to love.

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Today, I am writing to you from a cozy AirBnB in the snowy hills of North Carolina, in the town where I last lived solo before getting married 15 years and 3 children ago. The town of Winston-Salem is so special to me. It is where I started my career as a pharmacist and the very first place I ever lived truly by myself, moving here without knowing another soul. It was a brave move away from my Oklahoma comfort zone, and one of the best decisions of my entire life. At the time, my then-fiance (now husband) was completing his pharmacy residency in Asheville, and we burned up the highway between us every weekend chance we got. After getting married, he joined me in Winston-Salem, where we rented a 900 square foot historic home in the heart of town.

We had the best years in that little house. No television, no dishwasher, and a washer and dryer that were actually in the kitchen as extensions of the small countertop. Those years spent washing dishes side by side, playing tennis at the park across the street, and running long training miles in the early morning hours before work, side by side… those were such formative years for our marriage. We launched our careers here, took weekend motorcycle trips up the Blue Ridge parkway into Virginia, and road tripped out to the coast where we ran a marathon at the Outer Banks. We played in adult coed kickball and softball leagues and mentored a group of troubled youth at our church. Life wasn’t perfect, but it was beautifully ours.

Fast forward 15 years, and life looks just as beautiful - but very different than the years we lived in that tiny house on Magnolia Street. Now, back in Oklahoma our life is brimming with the constant energy of 3 kids, 2 dogs, and our home on a couple acres on the outskirts of our college town. So, what am I doing back here in Winston-Salem, all these years later, snowed in at an AirBnB in the same neighborhood where I first lived here?

My trip down literal memory lane started with a writer’s conference in Charlotte, a trip that had been planned for many months. I had hoped to make a quick trip up to Winston-Salem after the conference ended before flying out, to possibly see some old friends. But when the forecast showed a snowstorm of the decade moving in (on top of the snow and ice this region had gotten the week before), the conference got cut short, and everyone scrambled to get flights out quickly. I debated following their lead and heading to the airport.

Instead, (with the encouragement of my family back home) I made a last minute AirBnB reservation in my favorite old town and made a beeline up here. I got settled in just hours before 11 inches of snow began to pile.

The view from here

Ironically, I have so many old friends I would love to see while I am literally here in their town…but so far, the roads are preventing travel for anyone. So instead, I sit at a window in my cozy little space, in my old neighborhood, watching the snow fall as I write. I can’t recall the last time I was in a space all by myself, with no one needing me, expecting anything from me, or feeling the pressure of needing to “get things done".”

I am currently in the space that one of our conference speakers (Ann Voskamp) referred to as “non-time.” It’s the time when the world seems to stop, and your thoughts can flow freely. It’s the time when you are set aside, often in early morning hours before the world wakes up, and you can have uninterrupted space to think.

Sometimes, our perfect plans don’t pan out… but the moment we are willing to pivot, we open ourselves to the possibility of an even bigger gift.

I want to keep today’s post light, in contrast to the heaviness of the world that continues to surround us. I want to invite us to consider that in the midst of the [snow]storm, we can still find peace. It is definitely a privilege to be able to choose to step aside, and exist outside of the chaos for a while. But truly, we don’t have to choose “either/or.” We don’t have to choose whether to speak up for our vulnerable neighbors -or- to rest in the stillness of a snowy day. We don’t have to choose whether to call out the weight of the world -or- to choose to see beauty amidst the chaos. We can use our voices and speak boldly, and we can also sit in stillness so that we can return to the place where we discern our own thoughts, where we can hear God’s voice, and where we can consider our role in the greater story happening around us.

It’s simply Sunday…a pause, not an escape.

May we make room for both rest and resolve…
not an escape from responsibility, but the place where clarity is restored.

May we choose both peace and courage…
and the grace to pivot without panic when a plan (or the world) falls apart.

And may the stillness we choose today shape how we show up tomorrow…
more attentive, more compassionate, and more awake to the story that God is inviting us into.

Just for today, let that be enough.

-Dr. Peek