When My Heart Leapt Up in Spring

Spring 2022 came after a long stretch of busyness in our teaching life.

The classroom had been full of demands — lesson preparation, online adjustments, marking endless assignments, encouraging tired students, answering anxious parents. We loved teaching, but love does not cancel exhaustion.

By the time the two-week spring holiday arrived, we were not merely tired — we were inwardly drained.

But George and I had been quietly preparing for this rest long before it arrived.

Every month, we budgeted carefully. Teaching income is never extravagant. We listed our necessities first. Savings next. We denied ourselves many impulsive pleasures. And then, in one small corner of our notebook, we wrote:

“Spring Retreat.”

It was a simple dream — a Tudor house in the countryside, surrounded by meadow and daffodils. A fairy-tale cottage with timber frames and red bricks. A garden that looked like it belonged in a poem.

Perhaps it was my love for English literature. Perhaps it was my heart’s longing for quiet beauty. But William Wordsworth’s Daffodils had lived inside me for years:

“I wandered lonely as a cloud
That floats on high o’er vales and hills…”

When we finally arrived, the house stood there just as I had imagined — proud yet humble, wrapped in spring blossoms. Daffodils danced in the breeze, their golden heads nodding as if greeting us.

That afternoon, standing in the meadow with open arms, I felt my heart whisper:

“My heart leaps up…”

It was not luxury. It was simplicity. We woke without alarm clocks.
We walked through the meadow.
We sat back-to-back on the grass, facing the cottage, smiling like two children who had found a secret garden.

For two weeks, we were not rushing teachers.
We were not planners.
We were not answering messages.

We were simply husband and wife — breathing, noticing, thanking.

In the quiet of that Tudor dream house, I understood something deeper:

God created rest before He created deadlines.
He planted gardens before He gave us tasks.

Even Jesus withdrew to quiet places.

Rest is not indulgence.
It is alignment with how we were created.

When we returned home after the holiday, our circumstances were the same — but we were different.

We had remembered how to breathe.
We had remembered how to look at flowers without thinking of the clock.
We had remembered that our worth is not measured by productivity.

Spring 2022 did not make us any richer.

It made us richer in gratitude.

And even now, whenever I see daffodils, my heart still leaps up — not only because of poetry, but because of a faithful God who allows busy teachers to rest under His sky.

“To everything there is a season, and a time to every purpose under the heaven.” - Ecclesiastes 3:1

 And whenever spring returns and daffodils begin to dance, my heart remembers that rest is God’s invitation — and once again, it leaps up.

🌟 

Light for the Journey

Georgia

(Written from memories of our days together in the Spring of 2022.)

A New Light for the Journey

 

A New Light for the Journey

Sometimes a journey does not begin with something entirely new, but with seeing the same path through gentler eyes.

Over time, I have come to realise that life is rarely about rushing forward or finding grand answers all at once. More often, it is about walking steadily — one step at a time — learning to notice the quiet mercies that God places along the way.

This space, now called Light for the Journey, is born from that gentle realisation. Here, I hope to share reflections, devotions, and small moments of grace gathered from daily living — moments that remind us that even in uncertainty, light is never far away. 

If you are walking through joyful seasons or quieter valleys, may these words be a small companion to you. We may come from different roads, but we share the same longing — to walk with faith, hope, and a heart open to God’s gentle leading.

Let us continue the journey together, one quiet reflection at a time.

🎕🟊

From one pilgrim heart to another —
may we keep finding light along the way.

— Georgia
Light for the Journey

The Heart’s Song

 The Heart’s Song

- 12 Days of Hope and Prayer through the Psalms

    The Psalms are the Bible’s songbook—words born from the depths of human experience and lifted toward heaven. Within their verses, we hear the heartbeat of God’s people: cries of despair, shouts of joy, whispers of ratitude, and songs of hope. They remind us that faith is not a polished performance, but an honest journey where we can bring every emotion before the Lord. 

 In these sacred songs, we learn how to worship with abandon, how to lament without fear, how to trust in the Shepherd’s care, and how to rest in God’s eternal love. The psalmists teach us that every breath, whether sigh or song, can be prayer.

 This 12-day devotional series, The Heart’s Song, invites you to walk slowly through these timeless lessons. Each day offers a verse, a reflection, and a prayer—simple steps to draw near to God in whatever season you find yourself.

 Come with your joys, your questions, and your burdens. The Psalms remind us that God is big enough to hold them all, and tender enough to draw close to you. 

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