The Day I Stayed In and Moved Mountains

Silent Victories

Most of my weekdays feel like sprints—alarms, deadlines, multitasking, and trying not to spill coffee on my keyboard. But then there are days like Saturday.

Quiet. Low-pressure. Forgettable on the outside. But deeply alive on the inside. I didn’t do anything flashy. I didn’t post any updates. I didn’t even leave the house until late afternoon. And yet—it was the kind of day that quietly carries you closer to who you’re becoming.

That morning, I let myself linger in bed. Not out of laziness, but out of reverence for stillness. I blogged. I thought. I exhaled. I wasn’t in a rush, and that in itself felt like a win.

Eventually, I moved to my desk and started working on my poetry book again—17 Syllables of Me. I’ve been deep in eBook formatting and final cover adjustments, and it’s both exhilarating and exhausting. Every line I touch feels like a promise to my future readers. Every tweak, a way of saying: I see you. I care.

Isaiah 30:15 echoed in me as I worked:

“In quietness and trust is your strength…”

That verse isn’t a retreat from action—it’s a reminder that strength is found in quietness and trust. Even formatting a book can become an act of worship when your spirit is aligned.

I skipped lunch, saving my appetite for the Korean movie night I’d been invited to. Around four, I picked up an Asian salad from Trader Joe’s and texted my friend. “4:30 okay?” Her reply came quick and kind: “Totally fine.”

That kind of grace? Feeds the soul.

The evening unfolded gently—great food, familiar faces, wonderful company. Two Korean action movies—Escape and Harbin—had us glued to the screen. There was laughter, connection. And then—something tender. I pulled out my printed book proof and let a few friends see it. They held it with warmth—not just in their hands, but in their hearts.

Proverbs 13:12 came to mind:

“Hope deferred makes the heart sick, but a longing fulfilled is a tree of life.”

And in that moment, I felt the bloom of that tree—just a little green shoot, but real. They were genuinely happy for me. And for once, I let myself feel that happiness without deflecting it.

I left just before the third movie. Not because I was bored—but because I’ve finally learned to leave full, not drained. I had nothing left to prove, only rest to receive.

Anne Lamott once said:

“Almost everything will work again if you unplug it for a few minutes… including you.”

So I unplugged. I went home, took a shower, and slid into bed. No extra hustle. No overthinking. Just a quiet peace.

Soul Insights

Insights from a Low-Noise Day

1.) Small Movements Still Move You

I didn’t run errands. I didn’t “crush” a to-do list. But I realigned something inside me. And that matters.

2.) The Quiet Work Is Often the Deepest Work

Fixing the eBook formatting might not seem like a spiritual act, but when done with intention, it is. “Don’t judge each day by the harvest you reap but by the seeds that you plant.” – Robert Louis Stevenson

3.) Let People Clap for You

I’m not used to being seen in my becoming. But showing my proof copy reminded me—joy multiplies when you let others witness it.

4.) Know When to Step Out, Not Just Show Up

Staying for another movie would’ve stretched me too thin. Leaving when I did wasn’t quitting—it was wisdom. “The steps of a good man are ordered by the Lord.” – Psalm 37:23

5.) You Don’t Have to Perform to Belong

My worth wasn’t in how many scenes I watched or how many things I got done. It was in how well I listened—to God, to myself, to the quiet rhythm of becoming.

Final Thoughts: Quiet Doesn’t Mean Empty

The day didn’t trend. It didn’t even make a noise. But it changed something inside me.

It reminded me that transformation doesn’t always shout. It often whispers through blank pages, rearranged fonts, unexpected encouragement, and the grace of leaving early without apology.

Ecclesiastes 3:11 says:

“He has made everything beautiful in its time.”

Yes. Even the parts no one sees.

Your Turn

What’s the last quiet day that carried you forward—without a headline or hashtag?

If you’re in a season of silent progress, don’t rush it. Don’t minimize it. You’re doing more than you think.

And if you want to walk with me as I release 17 Syllables of Me, my debut poetry book that captures small moments and big shifts, subscribe for updates. This journey is just beginning—and I’d love for you to be part of it.

Soul Path Insights