There is a place within me. I call it the dwelling place. It is a place where I can sit down and just be.

It is a place where I can rest. I can let go of all the cares and worries of the world. I can be quiet and shut out the noise of the day. So sometimes I call it the resting place.

It is a place. It is a place within me where I can go and be still.

Just for five minutes I can rest and be still.

I don’t have to pray. I don’t have to ask for anything. I don’t have to save the world and I don’t have to be spiritual. I don’t have to use the right words or the right techniques to find God, understand God or have God do anything for me.

I can just rest and be still.

Oh, it is a blessed place to just be quiet and not have to do anything.

As I rest in this place within my being, it feels like the lap of water against the side of a moored sailboat. That gentle rocking motion, so soothing. It flows over me, rocking me, soothing and calming. Like a babe rocked in mother’s arms, held close to the heart, the fretfulness falls away. Peace is restored. I can breathe again, I notice, as I release a deep sigh.

The dwelling place. It renews me. It restores me. I want to live in this place all the time. That is why I call it the dwelling place. I want to reside here, dwell here. I know such peace in this place. I feel beautiful here; beauty surrounds me.

I feel nurtured here in this place. All of the broken pieces of me are knit up. I’m not broken any more. I am made whole again.

I notice the Sun is shining gently, smiling on my spirit. Everything is gentle in this place. It is a place of ease and flow. Ease and flow. I call this grace. This grace flows through me and I am part of it.

It is my dwelling place.

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