The season of slowing down

For months, I’ve been telling myself I need to slow down. I’ve felt it deep in my bones - that craving for more intentional moments, for space to breathe between responsibilities. But if there’s one thing I’ve learned, it’s that life doesn’t always wait for us to find balance.

December was a whirlwind. School Christmas programs, dance recitals, holiday gatherings, wrapping gifts, farm chores, and work deadlines all piled on top of each other. And then, just when I thought I’d finally get a break, life did what it does best - it forced me to stop. I came down with the flu, and soon, the whole household followed. Suddenly, everything we had been pushing through came to a halt. We still had to keep things moving, but we were also forced to rest, whether we liked it or not.

Then, avian influenza hit our area. Farms around us tested positive, triggering quarantine zones and strict biosecurity measures. As poultry farmers, we suddenly found ourselves in an unexpected waiting period - without chickens and without a clear timeline for when things would return to normal. The uncertainty was heavy, but it also gave us something we rarely get in agriculture: a window of time.

So, we did something we normally wouldn’t - we packed up and took the kids to Disney World. It wasn’t the trip we had planned months in advance, carefully organized with every detail accounted for. Instead, it was a last-minute decision, made possible by circumstances out of our control. And in a way, it felt symbolic.

The trip was filled with unforgettable moments -riding Peter Pan’s Flight before the park opened, braving the Tower of Terror, and watching fireworks from the ferry boat. But it also came with exhaustion, freezing Florida temperatures, and the chaos of keeping up with little ones in a packed theme park. It was a reminder that even in the middle of adventure, rest isn’t something that just happens - it’s something we have to make space for.

Now that we’re home, the reality of the poultry industry’s uncertainty remains. But so does the lesson: slowing down doesn’t always mean stopping. It means finding moments of stillness in the chaos, making space for joy even when life is uncertain, and giving ourselves permission to rest before we reach the point of exhaustion.

I don’t have all the answers, but I do know this: we can’t wait for life to give us permission to rest. We have to build it in ourselves - before we burn out, before sickness forces us to stop, before we realize we’re running on empty.

So here’s my commitment for this season: to be intentional about finding stillness, even when life is busy. To savor the small moments instead of just pushing through them. To remind myself that my worth isn’t measured by how much I accomplish in a day.

Maybe you’ve been feeling this way too. Maybe you’re waiting for life to tell you when it’s time to rest. But what if you took control of that decision?

What’s one way you can slow down this coming week - before life forces you to?