An Invitation to Presence

Early morning light spills out across an empty, golden field, dancing on frost-bitten rooftops.

A fat cardinal picks at our backyard tree branches, searching for food.

Candles cast a warm, cozy glow while the baby naps and all is quiet if only for a moment.

All of these things remind me that there is beauty to be found in the stillness of winter.

In the past, I’ve often found myself dreading the cold, dark of the winter season once the holidays come to pass. Everything worth looking forward to seems to end as the Christmas tree sits in storage for another year, the holiday gatherings slow, and we hit pause on the cheeriness of the Christmas season.

But this year, as I gingerly step into 2025, I find myself curiously at peace.

This slow, January month feels like an old, worn-in coat; comfy and welcoming and familiar. I’m nestling into it, thankful for the tenderness it’s offering me.

2024 was the biggest year of my life as my husband and I welcomed our baby girl into the world. I became a mom in 2024, and it’s been such a beautiful, hectic, weary, and joyful experience. Truthfully, I find myself having a hard time conveying what it’s been like because words can’t even come close to describing anything that I’ve felt or experienced.

It’s been a deeply formational and refining journey, that’s what I know for sure.

And I believe anything deeply formational and refining can only lead to what is good and true, even if sometimes it feels overwhelming and hard.

Because 2024 felt like such a whirlwind, I wasn’t planning on choosing a word for the 2025 year. But the closer I inched toward January, the more I realized that God was inviting me to embody something.

He was inviting me to embody presence.

After a year of so much change and transition and upheaval, I need rest. My body and soul are craving slowness, stillness, and familiarity. I long for a softness and a tenderness unlike I’ve ever known before.

And I hear God whispering to my soul that He wants to be that softness for me this year. He’s inviting me to be present to His Presence, to myself and what I need, and to the season of life that I’m in so that I can behold all the ways in which He's mothering me.

Because ultimately, that’s what I want; to be mothered. To be held in the tender sort of way that I hold my Gracie girl. To be given the same patience and compassion that I give to my daughter. To be spoken to gently and tenderly the way I speak to her.

By inviting me to presence, He’s inviting me to behold a different side of Him. To be present to the God that not only Fathers but Mothers, too. The words of Isaiah 40:11 come to mind and my soul exhales.

“He tends his flock like a shepherd:
He gathers the lambs in his arms
and carries them close to his heart;
he gently leads those that have young.”

(NIV)

As I step into this invitation, I’m learning how to receive His gentleness and let it form and shape me — let it soften me. It’s an invitation to listen, to pay attention, and to notice how I treat myself, too. To listen to my body when she needs to rest. To listen to the longings of my heart that seek slow and familiar rhythms that feel like a homecoming.

2025 for me is the year of embodying Presence, and learning to be open and receiving to God, myself, and my little family.

I’m learning here that beholding God is quite impossible without first unwrapping the gift of Presence. And I’ve been humbled lately as I examine my heart with the Lord and realize that being present is something I struggle to do in the midst of new motherhood. I would guess that a lot of us struggle to be present — the temptation to rush through each day and get to the next phase of life is so very strong.

I guess that’s why God offers an abundance of grace and it makes me thankful for new mercies every morning that invite me back to the present where His Presence dwells, grounding me — speaking tenderly to me.

I think 2025 for me is a year of resting, listening, and recovering.

It’s a year of beholding the God Who Mothers through the practice of Presence.

It’s a year of imperfectly learning how to emulate and embody Brother Lawrence’s declaration that, “There is not in the world a kind of life more sweet and delightful, than that of a continual conversation with God; those only can comprehend it who practice and experience it.”

I want to practice and experience the Presence of God this year, and I’m both hesitant and excited to see how it will unfold — what it will reveal and heal and make new.

The sun sits higher in the sky now, causing light to fractal over those glistening rooftops.

The baby wakes slowly, her soft coos telling me that she’s ready to enter the day again.

I think I’ll take a lesson from her and learn to linger a little while in the dark before emerging again into the light.

Winter is welcoming me to come home again to myself.

With you on the journey,

Celia

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Inhale: You, Lord.

Exhale: Gently lead me.

(adapted from Isaiah 40:11)

*If you’d like to learn more about the practice of breath prayer, download this complete digital guide to practicing breath prayer.

My mom is an ovarian cancer survivor who decided to create an encouraging planner for those walking through their cancer journey. It would also be a life-giving tool for caregivers and loved ones walking beside their cancer warrior. The ‘For Such a Time as This’ planner is officially available for purchase now here: Quiet Hope Co.

My Etsy shop, The Beholding Co., offers contemplative resources to help you slow down, seek still moments, and behold God’s presence with you in the everyday. Purchase some breath prayer cards, a Lectio Divina bookmark, and more.

Grab a copy of my Bible study, You Are Beloved: a 21-day study on how to root your identity in the love of God, over on Amazon. If you’d like a free 3-day sample of the study, reply to this email and I’ll send it right over!

My friend and licensed spiritual director, Kari Bartkus, offers an 8-week journaling program for those who want to process their grief and trauma with God within the safety of blank journal pages. I’ve completed the program myself and can say confidently that it was incredibly impactful and healing: Journal Gently

A regular practice of reflection helps us recognize what’s going on beneath the surface of our souls so we can name it in the Lord’s presence. Because as we learn to name what we feel, what we need, and what we long for, we’re also learning to discern the Spirit’s sweet, gentle voice within our hearts and lives.

Take a few moments today or this weekend to journal or contemplate with the Holy Spirit the following question(s) or prompt(s):

What is the Lord inviting you into this year?

What is one way you could embody that invitation today?