Shannon's Corner

  If I asked you to describe who you hope to become in this season of life, what would come to mind? Not your next accomplishment. Not your next job title. Not your next destination. Instead... What image, word, or phrase captures the person you are becoming? Maybe it's a tree with deep roots, standing firm through every season. Perhaps it's a lighthouse, offering steady light to others while remaining anchored in the midst of storms. Maybe the word that comes to mind is  peace . Or  courage . Or  whole . Or  free . As we move through life's transitions, it's easy to become consumed with what we have to do next. We make plans, solve problems, and focus on the practical details of change. Those things matter. But transitions are about more than changing circumstances—they are also shaping us from the inside out. The questions shift from: What should I do? to Who am I becoming? When we have an image, word, or phrase that reflects the person we desire to become, it...

  SHANNON’S CORNER Connect. Nurture. Grow. As I watch the power of a storm, listen to the thunder and downpour of rain, gaze upon the beauty of a sunrise, watch the trees dance in the wind, hear the gentle rain falling on the foliage, listen to the birds sing, see deer leap through the fields, and experience both the coolness and warmth of changing weather, I am reminded of God's beauty all around us. Being surrounded by such beauty these past few weeks has ministered deeply to my spirit, body, mind, and soul.  It has been especially meaningful as I have listened to difficult, and at times traumatizing, stories from global workers serving and living in hard places around the world.  As they courageously share their wounds, burdens, and struggles, I find myself returning to this verse:  "From Mount Zion, the perfection of beauty, God shines forth in glorious radiance"  (Psalm 50:2, NLT).   The beauty of creation reminds me that beauty is not simply...

  This morning, I sat listening to the steady, gentle rain falling on the leaves of the trees. There was no thunder, no fierce wind, no urgency. Just the soft rhythm of raindrops landing on foliage, one after another. As I listened, I found myself thinking about the way rain gently cleanses. The rain washes dust from leaves that have quietly accumulated dirt over time. It nourishes roots hidden beneath the surface. It refreshes what has become dry and weary. And it does all of this without force. Transitions in life often require a similar kind of cleansing. When we walk through seasons of change, we can accumulate things we were never meant to carry for long. Disappointments. Unmet expectations. Worries about the future. Grief over what was lost. Even old identities that no longer fit the person we are becoming. Sometimes we think growth must happen through dramatic breakthroughs or major life overhauls. Yet often the most meaningful transformation comes through gentle, consistent...