lk at the bottom of the steps. Almost always, if I stop on a dark winter’s morn and gaze up at the stars overhead, the bare branches of trees silhouetted in the indCell phones, Internet, iPods, PDAs, alarm clocks, instant messenging, television, radio, podcasts, DVDs, email; our minds are constantly bombarded with input, information and communication. That’s just the thick layer of frosting on the cake of busy lives that overflow with jobs, kids, school, volunteer work, errands and chores.

I’ve been discovering small ways to slow down, to drink in the world around me and give my spirit small retreats. On a winter morning, it’s still dark when I walk down my steps to drive off to work. Instead of hopping right into my car with the engine running and the inviting warm interior, I halt on the little sidewalk at the bottom of the steps. Almost always, if I stop on a dark winter’s morn and gaze up at the stars overhead, the bare branches of trees silhouetted in the indi

mation and communication. That’s just the thick layer of frosting on the cake of busy lives that overflow with jobs, kids, school, volunteer work, errands and chores.

I’ve been discovering small ways to slow down, to drink in the world around me and give my spirit small retreats. On a winter morning, it’s still dark when I walk down my steps to drive off to work. Instead of hopping right into my car with the engine running and the inviting warm interior, I halt on the little sidewalk at the bottom of the steps. Almost always, if I stop on a dark winter’s morn and gaze up at the stars overhead, the bare branches of trees silhouetted in the ind

es.

I’ve been discovering small ways to slow down, to drink in the world around me and give my spirit small retreats. On a winter morning, it’s still dark when I walk down my steps to drive off to work. Instead of hopping right into my car with the engine running and the inviting warm interior, I halt on the little sidewalk at the bottom of the steps. Almost always, if I stop on a dark winter’s morn and gaze up at the stars overhead, the bare branches of trees silhouetted in the ind

n I walk down my steps to drive off to work. Instead of hopping right into my car with the engine running and the inviting warm interior, I halt on the little sidewalk at the bottom of the steps. Almost always, if I stop on a dark winter’s morn and gaze up at the stars overhead, the bare branches of trees silhouetted in the indlk at the bottom of the steps. Almost always, if I stop on a dark winter’s morn and gaze up at the stars overhead, the bare branches of trees silhouetted in the indigo sky, I'm filled with a sense of exquisite beauty, and a presence of God that surrounds and embraces me in warmth and love. A few seconds pause in a busy world can show us the miracles around us.

Pause for a few moments at the kitchen window and watch the birds winging through treetops. Stop mid-step on your way to somewhere and stare at the sky overhead, the clouds billowing and sailing across an inverted ocean of blue. Stay in your car when you’ve just parked and you’re in the middle of a song you love. Just for half a minute or so, put your head back, close your eyes, enter the music and feel your soul sing in harmony. Pause when you sip a