This morning in my quiet time, I invited guidance from two of my cherished mentors—both of whom died some years ago.
These two souls couldn’t be more different.
One is grounded, thoughtful, deeply rooted in a life faith. His wisdom is quiet, steady, measured—like hearing a wise, familiar scripture passage.
The other is wild, irreverent, brimming with a mischievous spiritual curiosity. She chased adventure at the edges and never stopped reaching for what lay just beyond the horizon.
This morning, I found myself inviting them both to speak to me of what really matters, to remind me of truths they know that I easily forget.
From one came the invitation to settle, to trust in the enduring simplicity of faith. To be still and know.
From the other came a call to stay attuned to intuition, to follow the shimmer at the edge of the map, to risk.
Together, they offered me what I think we’re all longing for: a grounded faith that doesn’t shy away from mystery—a rootedness that still dares to reach for the stars.
In my remaining quiet time, I took them up on their advice and journaled about the next grand adventure that is flowing forth from my rooted faith and knowing.
As you reflect on the spiritual mentors that you cherish—whether living or dead—what are they inviting you to remember? What are they calling you to move toward?