When I was a sophomore in college, I studied abroad in the British Isles for three months in a group led by four professors. We spent most of our time in cities: London to York to Edinburgh to Glasgow to Manchester to London again. Occasionally the subjects we studied—Wordsworth and Roman ruins—would take us into the countryside where we could reconnect with soft earth and silence. This trip laid the foundation for my later realization that I am a nature-loving, silence-seeking introvert. In cities, I would find parks and churches. Quiet spaces. Places that would lessen both the external hustle and bustle of the city and my internal noise as I tried to take it all in. Spaces that let me make more space for God.


A month after I returned home from England, I was at a snowbound camp called Tall Timber living like a monk for a Christian Spirituality course during my school’s three-week January Term. After the relentless pace and variety of travel, the monastic schedule was jarring in its routine. Our days were anchored by a modified Divine Office, specific times of prayer and worship that define the day in some monastic communities. Our daily rhythm was this: worship, breakfast, lecture, personal study time, worship, lunch, chores, lecture, free time, worship, dinner, small group, worship, free time, and bed.

The days were full, perhaps even as full as when I was abroad. But there was suddenly freedom in the day that had been lacking on my study abroad sojourn. The freedom I felt was linked to the structure of our daily routine. Each activity had its allotted time, so there was time for fellowship and time for solitude. There was time for activity of the mind and activity of the hands. And most importantly, we had time for God through our personal study and journaling, through our small groups, and through the rhythm of worship four times each day.


As I reflected, the word finally came to me: space. We had space at Tall Timber, both physical space in that quiet corner of the world and mental space. Studying abroad had felt cramped. We lived in tight quarters in hostels. Cities were crowded with people. And my mind was busy with processing the experience. Even spending time with God had been pushed into the margins. Time itself was squeezed to wring out every minute of every day. At Tall Timber, the strictness of our daily rhythm led to the space I craved to think and reflect.

I had another transition on returning to a regular college semester in the spring. The time at Tall Timber had been charmed; the demands of life were so physically and emotionally distant. Normal life could feel more like the pace of studying abroad than the spacious rhythms of Tall Timber. I learned that I had to be flexible with the structure I created for myself as life changed.


In the nearly 10 years since that quasi-monastic experience, I try my best to create a structure that gives me space: space for God, space for relationships, space for my own reflection. I’ve embraced the liturgical year. It has its own structure to help us attend to the story of Christ and our place in that story. The Lenten and Easter seasons are particularly meaningful for me because I take more time to journal and read Scripture. With Holy Week upon us, when we remember Christ’s suffering and death, I pray you’ll find your own space to be with the crucified and risen Christ.


  1. Kathleen Danze

    Thank you for that blog. It was a treasured suprise to find on this particular day before Easter.

    • ElizabethB

      You’re welcome, Kathleen. God bless you.

  2. Stat Koenig

    Thank you for this blog post. I read it on Easter Sunday and it is especially meaningful to me. I am reminded of how little space I made for God in my hectic life. Your post made me more determined to carve out more space for God and not succumb to the rush and bustle of this world. God first, world… a very distant last. This will be my motto from this Easter onwards. Thank you for the timely reminder.

    • ElizabethB

      You’re welcome, Stat. I’m so glad it was meaningful to you. I’ll pray that we’re both able to have space for God.

  3. Doug Hansen

    The liturgical year is so wonderful in that it makes sure all aspects of Christ’s life are visited regularly.

    • ElizabethB

      I agree, Doug. It’s probably been the best at helping me maintain a rhythm through the year.

  4. Pastor Clement N. Nwachukwu

    Thank you for the blog post. Truly, anyone can create a space for God in his or her daily routine. To say I don’t have time for God is deny oneself the most sublime experience in life. Here is how it goes; if you desire comfort, then you need to have time for God and with Him. If want direction, then seek for God’s attention. There’s always a time for God in the equal 24hours given to everyone us. God Bless You All.

  5. Occasionally, I spend very in depth and quality time with GOD. The most difficult part is when I must say Amen. It closes our time together until we meet again on that level, however; the departure always saddens me because I must return to the functionality of my life not necessarily my purpose; GOD seems to tell me, now go into the world and share what I have taught you, and I cling to HIS ankles because my experience with HIM is always memorable and Divinely soothing. I fall short every day in my journey because my heart, my mind and my soul is stayed on being in HIS presence eternally. I struggle severely to maintain a healthy presence in the life but I always fall short and it keeps me in a way that is not always pleasing because it makes me waver.
    Our Heavenly Father makes us feel like we are the only one and that is why I live to tell everyone how great GOD is. When rejected, it saddens me because I know GOD is good and HE wants a relationship with HIS children. HE is the most rejected father I know but yet, HE loves us in spite of us.