Shannon's Corner

Sitting and looking at a scenic overlook while listening about how the name for this retreat center, Tributary , is so meaningful—because there are three waterfalls fed by springs that flow into the creek below us, which then flows into a bigger creek and eventually into the Buffalo National River—it brings to mind how our lives move in much the same way. Life often feels like a river—steady, predictable, flowing in one direction. But sometimes, a tributary comes rushing in, changing the course. A tributary doesn’t stop the river, but it alters its path, forcing the water to find a new way forward. One of my biggest tributaries was burnout. For years, I poured myself out as a nurse and a missionary. My days were full—caring for children and adults, meeting needs, holding responsibilities that felt endless. On the outside, it looked like I was thriving, but inside, I was slowly unraveling. I ignored the signs at first. I told myself to push harder, to keep giving, to hold it all togethe...

  The other day, I paused to notice the trees swaying and dancing in a gentle breeze. Their leaves rustled softly, almost as if they were whispering to one another, creating a melody carried by the wind. In that moment, the trees came alive with their own kind of music.   I was reminded that these breezes, as gentle as they seem, serve a greater purpose. They help the trees grow stronger, preparing them for the inevitable storms ahead. When storms do arrive, the trees respond by driving their roots deeper into the earth, anchoring themselves more firmly so they can withstand the force.   Some trees, like the towering California redwoods, take this resilience a step further. They intertwine their roots with those around them, creating a living network of support. Together, they stand stronger than they ever could alone.   Interestingly, scientists observed this truth in a controlled environment. In a biosphere where conditions were perfect—sunlight, water, nutrients—t...