Where the Wildflowers Grow: A Call to Retreat and Be Restored

Have you ever felt like your soul was just… tired?

Like you’ve been pouring out, giving and striving, praying and hoping—but your spirit feels bone-dry? Maybe even brittle?

It’s in those moments that heaven gently whispers:

“Come away with Me. Retreat.”

Not in shame.

Not in fear.

But in intimacy. In safety. In deep, soul-deep love.

Retreat Isn’t Giving Up—It’s Getting Close!

Let’s reframe this:

Retreat is not running away. It’s returning.  It’s about running to the right place.

Returning to the One who made you.

Returning to the garden.

Returning to the Father.

“Come with me by yourselves to a quiet place and get some rest.” — Mark 6:31

Jesus said that. To His disciples. To the ones who were already serving Him.

Because even the called, even the faithful, need rest.

You retreat with God on the mountaintop.

In moments of clarity, joy, and presence. Where the air is fresh and the view is clear.

You ascend with Him, and you breathe in His majesty.

It’s where Moses met with God face-to-face.

Where Jesus was transfigured in glory.

Where heaven touches earth.

The mountaintop is a place of retreat—not escape, but encounter.

And oh, how He loves to meet you there.

He Walks With You in the Valley!

But He doesn’t stay on the mountaintop.

He guides you through the valleys.

Through the heartbreak, the confusion, the quiet griefs that no one else can see.

“Even though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil, for You are with me…” — Psalm 23:4

He is your Shepherd, always walking with you, not just watching from afar.

He doesn't rush you through it. He holds your hand and walks at your pace.

He knows the way because He is the way.

He Leads You Along Blooming Paths!

He leads you on paths adorned with wildflowers and beside peaceful waters.

Not every part of the journey is stormy or steep—there are gentle days, too.

“He leads me beside quiet waters. He restores my soul.” — Psalm 23:2-3

There are trails where the breeze is sweet and the air is thick with peace.

Where your soul remembers, “This is what I was made for.”

To be led. To be loved. To rest.

And eventually, He leads you back to the garden—

The place we were created to dwell with the Father.

The original plan. The sacred design.

Not a place of shame like when Adam and Eve hid—

But a place of intimacy and restoration, like when Jesus wept in Gethsemane and said, “Not My will, but Yours.”

Back to the garden: to retreat, to surrender, to claim victory.

It’s a holy rhythm:

Retreat – to step away from the noise

Surrender – to lay everything down

Claim victory – to rise again in His strength

This is where your story resets. This is where healing begins.

He Prepares a Table… Even in the Battle!

Sometimes you want to retreat away from the pain, away from the people who’ve hurt you.

But what does God do?

“You prepare a table before me in the presence of my enemies…” — Psalm 23:5

He doesn’t always remove the battle—but He gives you peace in the middle of it.

He sets out a table. A feast. An invitation.

Not just to survive, but to be filled. Nourished. Anointed.

You don’t retreat in defeat—you retreat into abundance.

If I Don’t Retreat… My Cup Stays Empty!

And this one hits hard:

“If I don’t retreat, then my cup won’t be full… and I won’t be able to pour out of a glass half full.”

You can’t give what you don’t have.

You can’t overflow when you’re running on empty.

Even Jesus withdrew often to be alone with the Father. (Luke 5:16)

So why do we think we can keep pouring without pausing?

Retreating with the Father is not optional. It’s essential.

Your soul needs the stillness.

Your heart needs the garden.

Your cup needs to be filled.

You don’t have to earn your way back to Him. He’s already walking with you.

Ahead of you. Beside you. Behind you.

“Surely goodness and mercy shall follow me all the days of my life, and I will dwell in the house of the Lord forever.” — Psalm 23:6

His presence doesn’t leave when you wander.

His mercy doesn’t run out when you mess up.

His invitation to retreat is always open.

And when you say yes to it—

You find Him again. And you find yourself, too.

So What Does It Mean to Retreat?

It means pulling away from the weight of the world to lean into the arms of the Father.

It means resting instead of running.

It means surrendering instead of striving.

It means letting your cup overflow so you can pour out with joy again.

It means walking back into the garden—

Where your soul remembers Eden.

Where your heart remembers the Shepherd.

And where your spirit finds the peace it was made for.

So retreat, sweet friend. Retreat often. Retreat without guilt.

And let the Father fill every dry place with His living water.