By Davalynn Spencer @davalynnspencer
Last week I left it all behind.
Well, sort of.
I took my laptop because I was, after all, planning to write. Which meant I also needed my smart phone and Nikon camera. Now that I think about it, I lived more off-grid when my husband and I rodeoed.
“Off-grid” is more of a disconnect descriptor for those who choose to live more independently without cultural infrastructure such as electricity, etc. It also describes those who have logged off of social media. For me, off-grid simply meant “out-of-reach.”
I needed the getaway. Sweet evenings by a whispering river with no television or phone calls or internet. Oh, Wi-Fi was available, but so was an off/mute button, complete with the rebellious sense of “I’m gone, and no one knows where I am!”
I wonder if Jesus felt like that when “he went up on a mountainside by himself to pray” (Matthew 14:23 NIV).
True off-gridders would have camped. I did the next-best thing at a mountain-valley Airbnb with gracious hosts and a guardian feline that kept a careful but distant eye on me from beneath a flowering tree in the yard.
But as much as I enjoyed my stay, I had to leave. However, I’ve learned that leaving means taking parts of my retreat home with me—like the sweet aftertaste of waking to a quiet dawn and walking by the river. Goslings in the pasture, the swaying music of giant cottonwoods, sunlight gilding not-so-distant snow-capped peaks.
Somehow, going off-grid makes coming back easier. I think it’s because I come back with the peace of “away.”
The anticipation of leaving, enjoyment of the experience, and remembering the change of pace, place, and priority all weave into regeneration.
He restores my soul.
If I let Him.
For me, renewal requires simpler over easier/faster.
How about you? How do you regenerate? Do you go “off-grid?”
If you could go away for a few days, where would you go—mountains, dessert, seashore, or somewhere else? I’d love to hear your choice.
Want to see where I went? Here’s a peek at Riverbend RetreatCome back with the peace of 'away'. Click To Tweet
With the rising sun behind them, Cade kicked into a lope across the park, startling deer that bounded effortlessly across the meadow. A watery rush of wings and raucous honking sent a gaggle of Canada geese skyward, sunlight flashing off their bellies.
Elizabeth’s heart squeezed at the familiar sight so long absent from her daily life. Denver and all that had happened there seemed miles and years away.
Riding into the back country, she consciously threw off everything she could think of from her time in the city. The lack—so different from her life of abundance on the ranch. Cold, lonely nights waiting for Edward’s return from his so-called business. An unnamed hunger for warmth and love as much as for food.
She’d known early on that marrying Edward had been a mistake, but ingrained in her very fiber was the fact that one did not go back on a promise. Clearly, Edward did not have the same upbringing.
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(c) 2019 Davalynn Spencer, all rights reserved.
8 thoughts on “Going Off-Grid (Guiltlessly)”
Wow that looks like a wonderful “away” place. So glad you had that time and can now look at things differently because of it. Wonderful post today
Thank you for stopping by, Lori.
I appreciate knowing about your “retreat” place. A place to kick back and refresh and renew your mind. It sounded wonderful!
I’m so glad you shared.
Thank you, Karen. Riverbend Retreat is a wonderfully relaxing place. I will go again.
I’m so glad you got away. You need the “away” to further appreciate the “here”.
I love getting away. I was blessed recently with some time in New Mexico, a place dear to my heart. My arthritic joints loved it, too! But I grew up near the ocean, and so choosing would be too tough.
Yes, Jennifer. Sometimes we have choices for that great “away” spot. If they’re different than “here,” they work.
I would choose the mountains for sure. I live in the Kentucky hills, so that may sound crazy. I guess the hills are just embedded in my heart. My husband and I just talked about wanting a cabin near home, but high in the hills so we could get away where no one knew where we were. It’s a nice thought.
Yes, Mandy. “…where no one knew where we were.” That’s what makes it so sweet!