Jodi H. Grubbs

I’m here to walk this path with you, showing you what I’ve both learned and then unlearned. Helping you—so you don’t have to repeat my mistakes.

Perhaps you simply need someone to affirm you as you take your next steps to identifying and advocating for your unique pace, practicing soul care, finding your people, and simplifying your faith through a fresh, ongoing friendship with God.

You’ll thrive from a place of rest as you trust that you are being held.

Are you anticipating pushback from other people in your life who don’t understand your deep personal need to exhale?

won’t lay anything heavy or ill-fitting on you. Keep company with me and you’ll learn to live freely and lightly. (Matthew 11:28-30 MSG)

Are you tired? Worn out? Burned out on religion? Come to me. Get away with me and you’ll recover your life. I’ll show you how to take a real rest. Walk with me and work with me—watch how I do it. Learn the unforced rhythms of grace. I

your fear. This includes things you might need to finally change, a new kind of “casting all your fear” kind of trust that’s rooted in these words from 1 Peter 5:7. It includes giving up control, and giving up what others will think of you.
It’s perfectly fine to tell God you are tired and weary and need to exhale and rest. He wants to guide you

Pastor Kenny’s Advent invitation that Sunday was a balm in a busy season as he offered these thoughts:
Words are very important to God. Do not be afraid. Give God the recognition of

But your story isn’t finished being written yet. And that in itself is a beautiful thing to hold on to. A good word that I come back to often comes from Bob Goff. He says: “Embrace uncertainty. Some of the most beautiful chapters in our lives won’t have a title until much later.”

Through various seasons of having to slow down, to not be in control, and to move at a slower pace, the only thing that helped me see rest as a true gift was coming to a place of acceptance.
Often we cannot see what God is doing at the moment; we must trust. This posture of acceptance gave me the ability to have open hands. I started to slowly unpack the gift of rest and waiting that was often disguised as suffering.