Lottie

There are some afternoons on the porch that feel especially peaceful.

The kind where the air is still, the light is soft, and everything just feels settled.

And then there are the other kind.

The kind where the sky turns a little darker than expected, the wind picks up, and before you know it, a storm is rolling in quicker than you planned for.

We had one of those afternoons not long ago.

I remember sitting there, watching the clouds gather, when the first clap of thunder rolled through. It wasn’t too loud, but it was enough to change the atmosphere.

And sure enough, Little Pearl noticed it too.

Now Miss Magnolia, she stayed just like she always does. She was calm, steady, unbothered. But Little Pearl? She started shifting again. Back and forth, just unsettled enough to let you know she wasn’t quite sure what to do with it all.

Another clap of thunder came, a little louder this time.

And I thought to myself isn’t that just like us?

It doesn’t always take a full storm to shake our peace. Sometimes it’s just the sound of something uncertain on the horizon.

A conversation we didn’t expect. A situation we can’t control. A season that feels heavier than we planned for.

And before long, our hearts start doing exactly what Little Pearl was doing. Pearl was restless, uneasy, searching for something to hold onto.

But as I sat there watching, I couldn’t help but notice Miss Magnolia again. Still steady. Still in place.

Not because the storm wasn’t real, but because her position hadn’t changed.

And that’s when the Lord gently reminded me of something I’ve needed more than once.

Peace isn’t found in the absence of storms. It’s found in the presence of God.

Scripture tells us in Philippians 4:6–7 not to be anxious about anything, but in everything, through prayer and petition, with thanksgiving, to present our requests to God. And it says His peace will guard our hearts and minds in Christ Jesus.

Not remove every storm. But guard our hearts in the middle of it. That kind of peace doesn’t come from everything going right. It comes from knowing the One who holds it all.

So if things feel a little unsettled in your life right now, if there’s something on the horizon that’s making your heart restless, may I remind you of something today?

You don’t have to calm the storm to experience peace. You just have to stay close to the One who can calm your heart.

Now tell me, friend, what’s been trying to steal your peace lately?

There’s room for you here on the porch.

There’s something about a porch swing that sets its own pace.

You can’t rush it.

You can try, I suppose to push off a little harder, move a little faster, but it never quite feels right when you do. It’s almost like it was made to remind you that some things in life aren’t meant to be hurried.

They’re meant to be felt.

I found myself out there not long ago, settling into that familiar rhythm. Back and forth,  back and forth  just enough movement to be noticed, but not enough to feel like progress.

And of course, right there nearby were Miss Magnolia and Little Pearl.

Now Magnolia, she didn’t pay the swing much attention. She just stayed steady like she always does.

But Little Pearl, she watched it.

Every movement. Every shift.

And after a while, she started moving too. Stepping forward, then back almost like she was trying to match the rhythm, but not quite understanding it.

It wasn’t long before she grew a little restless.

And I couldn’t help but smile, because I’ve been there more times than I can count.

Trying to make something move faster than it should.
Trying to “get somewhere” when God is asking me to stay somewhere.
Trying to measure progress when nothing around me feels like it’s changing.

Have you ever been in a season like that?

The kind where you’re doing all the right things. You're showing up, praying, and trusting as best you know how.

But it feels like nothing is moving.

No answers.
No clarity.
Just… waiting.

And if we’re honest, waiting can feel a lot like being stuck.

But as I sat there on that porch swing, the Lord gently reminded me of something I needed to hear.

Just because something feels slow doesn’t mean nothing is happening.

That swing was moving the whole time.

Not rushing.
Not forcing.
Just steady, consistent, and purposeful.

And maybe that’s what some of our seasons look like too.

Not stuck.

Just steady.

Scripture tells us in Isaiah 40:31 that those who wait on the Lord will renew their strength. Not lose it. Not waste it.

Renew it.

That means waiting isn’t empty.

It’s active in ways we can’t always see.

It’s where God strengthens us, He steadies us, and He prepares us.

So if you find yourself in a season that feels slow or quiet or like you’re not quite getting where you thought you would be by now...

Can I gently remind you of something today?

You’re not falling behind.

God isn’t rushing your story.

And this season you’re in?

It may not feel like progress, but it could be preparing you for more than you realize.

Maybe instead of pushing harder the invitation is to sit a while longer.

To trust the rhythm.

To let God move in His time.

Now tell me, friend, are you in a season of waiting right now?

There’s a seat open for you here on the porch swing.

There’s a gentle kind of quiet that settles on the porch in the early part of the day. Not the kind that feels empty, but the kind that feels full in all the right ways.

It’s usually about that time I find myself sitting for a minute, just watching things as they are, nothing rushed, nothing forced.

And of course, right there by the steps, you’ll find Miss Magnolia and Little Pearl. Now if you’ve spent any time with me out here, you already know Little Pearl has a tendency to watch Miss Magnolia pretty closely. And I suppose that’s not all bad. 

There’s something to be said for learning from someone who’s steady.
But the other day, I noticed she was following a little too closely.

Every shift Miss Magnolia made, Pearl tried to make. Every direction Magnolia faced, Pearl adjusted herself to match. It was almost like she was trying to line herself up perfectly as if getting it just right would somehow make her feel more secure.

But in all that adjusting, something felt a little off.
She didn’t look settled.
She looked unsure.
And as I sat there watching, I couldn’t help but smile a little, because if I’m being honest, I’ve done the very same thing in my own life.

Maybe you have too.
It’s easy to look around and see someone who seems confident, steady, walking closely with the Lord and think, “If I could just do it like she does, then I’d be okay.”

So we start adjusting.
We measure our pace against someone else’s.
We compare our calling to theirs.
We quietly wonder if we’re doing enough or doing it right.

And before long, we’re not walking in confidence. We’re walking in comparison. And comparison has a way of stealing something precious from us.

It steals our peace.
It steals our clarity.
And sometimes it even steals our joy.

But as I kept watching Little Pearl that morning, it became clear. She wasn’t created to mirror Miss Magnolia.
She was meant to stand in her own place.

And friend so are you.
Scripture reminds us in Psalm 139:14 that we are fearfully and wonderfully made. Not accidentally. Not as a copy. But intentionally, by a God who doesn’t make mistakes.

That means your story, your pace, your calling is not supposed to look exactly like anyone else’s. And trying to make it match? It will only leave you feeling unsettled.

So, if you’ve found yourself looking around lately wondering if you measure up quietly comparing where you are to where someone else seems to be…may I gently remind you of something today?

You don’t have to become someone else to be secure in who God created you to be.

There’s a place for you.

Not right next to someone else’s purpose, but right in the middle of your own.

Now I’d love to know have you been feeling the pull of comparison lately?

Come sit with me a while. 

There’s room for you here on the porch. - Lottie Partridge

There’s something about a front porch that invites you to slow down. Not rush. Not perform. Just sit a while.

If you were here with me today, I’d pour you something sweet to drink, and we’d settle into those familiar chairs that have held a thousand quiet prayers and more life lessons than I can count.

And right over there, by the steps, you’d see them, Miss Magnolia and Little Pearl.

Now Miss Magnolia… she’s the steady one. The kind that doesn’t get in a hurry and doesn’t change her mind just because the wind picks up. She’s been in the same spot for as long as I can remember, watching the world go by like she’s got all the time in it.

Little Pearl, on the other hand, well… she’s still learning.

The other day, I noticed something. We had a bit of a stir around here. Folks coming and going, things being moved, a little more noise than usual. And while Little Pearl shifted this way and that like she didn’t quite know where she belonged, Miss Magnolia didn’t budge an inch. Not one. She stayed planted right where she was.

At first, I thought, “Well isn’t that something?” But the longer I sat there, the more I realized I’ve been a lot like Little Pearl in seasons of my life.

When things feel uncertain, when God starts shifting something, when life doesn’t look like it did yesterday, it’s easy to feel unsettled. To second guess. To wonder if we’ve missed something or need to fix something.

We start moving when maybe we’re meant to stay. Or we stay when maybe God is gently leading us to trust Him into something new.

But Miss Magnolia reminded me of something simple and true that I’ve had to learn more than once.

You don’t have to understand everything to trust the One who does. I’m learning you don’t have to make sense of everything to rest in the One who already holds it together.

Scripture says in Proverbs 3:5-6 to trust in the Lord with all your heart and lean not on your own understanding. 

And if I’m honest, it’s that second part that’ll get you., because I sure do like to understand things before I trust them.

Don’t you? But trust doesn’t grow in understanding. It grows in surrender.
It grows when we choose to believe that God is steady even when everything around us feels like it’s shifting.

So whether you’re in a season where everything feels uncertain, or maybe you’re standing right on the edge of something new, wondering if you’ve got what it takes. 
May I remind you of something today?

You don’t have to have it all figured out. You just have to stay close to the One who does.

And maybe, just maybe it’s enough to sit a while, right where you are, and trust Him there.

Now I’d love to hear from you. 

Are you in a season where God is asking you to trust Him in something new, or stay steady where He has you?

Pull up a chair, friend. 

There’s always room here on the porch. - Lottie Partridge

Planted: Embracing the Season You’re In  (A Reflection on Psalm 1:1–3 ASV)  

Spring has a way of waking everything up, doesn’t it? 

The air feels lighter, the days stretch a little longer, and suddenly there’s color everywhere. Fresh blooms, bright green leaves, and the sound of birds singing like they’ve been waiting all winter to lift their voices again. It’s the season when many of us step outside, ready to refresh our spaces. We clear away what’s faded, lay new mulch, and plant something beautiful in its place.  

It’s also the time of year when I find myself returning to one of my favorite passages of Scripture, Psalm 1:1–3. 

There’s something about this season that makes those verses come alive in a deeper way. The imagery of being “like a tree planted by streams of water” feels especially real when everything around me is growing again.  

Psalm 1 paints a powerful picture of what it means to be planted well:  

“Blessed is the one… whose delight is in the law of the Lord… That person is like a tree planted by streams of water, which yields its fruit in season and whose leaf does not wither. Whatever they do prospers.” 

The part that always settles into my heart is this phrase: yields its fruit in season. 

Not all at once. Not constantly. Not ahead of time. But in season. 

That truth has become an anchor for me. 

There have been times in my life when I have felt behind, or wondered if I should be doing more, or even questioned if I was in the right place. But this passage reminds me that God is not rushing my growth. He is cultivating it with intention and care. 

Just like a garden. 

If we plant flowers or trees properly, giving them the right soil, sunlight, and water, they grow strong, healthy, and steady. The same is true for us spiritually. When we are rooted in God’s Word and spend time with our Heavenly Father, we become anchored, resilient, and fruitful. 

Being planted is not passive. It is intentional. 

It looks like opening Scripture, even on busy days. It is choosing to pray and also taking time to listen. It is lifting a song of praise in everyday moments. It is serving others, offering kindness, and being present right where we are. 

It is a daily decision to stay rooted. 

I have also learned that being planted does not always feel comfortable. There are moments when I have wondered if I was in the wrong place. Maybe you have felt that too. 

But over time, God has gently reminded me that He is intentional about where He places us. Acts 17:26 tells us that He determines the times and places where we live. That means this season, and this place, are not accidental. 

There are people we are meant to reach. There is light we are meant to carry. There is fruit we are meant to bear, right here and right now. 

And often, God does His most beautiful work in the most unexpected places. 

I think about the stories throughout Scripture. A baby placed in a basket who would one day lead a nation. A reluctant prophet redirected in an unforgettable way. A young woman who became a queen at just the right time. And a woman at a well who encountered a Savior who knew everything about her and still chose her. 

God has always used ordinary people in extraordinary ways. 

When we are planted in Him, we do not have to fear the changing seasons. Psalm 1 reminds us that our source remains steady. Like a tree planted by streams of water, we are continually nourished. 

That does not mean life will always feel easy. 

Storms will come. Winds will blow. Some seasons will feel more like winter than spring. But when our roots run deep in Christ, we are not easily shaken. We may bend, but we will not break. 

There is strength in being planted. 

And there is beauty in embracing the season we are in. 

Spring invites us to slow down and notice what God is doing. The blooming flowers, the butterflies emerging, the songs of birds filling the air all remind us that growth is happening, even when it takes time. 

Wherever you find yourself today, whether your season feels full and vibrant or quiet and hidden, God is at work. 

Nothing is wasted in His hands. 

This passage has taught me to stop striving for a different season and instead ask, “Lord, how can I grow here? How can I serve here? How can I bear fruit right where You have planted me?” 

Because every season holds purpose. 

As we tend to our gardens this spring, may we also tend to our hearts. May we clear away what no longer belongs, make room for what God wants to grow, and choose to stay deeply rooted in Him. 

And when the winds come, may we stand firm, not because of our own strength, but because of where we are planted. 

This is a beautiful season. Let’s not rush through it or overlook it. 

Let’s embrace it fully and trust that God is doing something meaningful, even now. 

You are planted on purpose.