Stop & Smell the Sunrise
A word for weary eyes and hurried hearts.
Welcome to Letters From Heidi, a refuge for truth seekers, deep-feelers, and the homesick searching for Eternity.
I am Heidi, an Asian-Australian woman who writes at the intersection of life, faith, pop culture, and the immigrant family experience. If you’re a new reader, you can learn the story behind Letters From Heidi here, or subscribe to never miss a post!
Dear friend,
I’m kicking off the New Year with a life lesson I learned in 2020: look up, be still, and stop and smell the sunrise. It’s a thought inspired by Psalm 19:1-2, to begin each day looking up to God and resting in His declarations and promises:
The heavens declare the glory of God; the skies proclaim the work of his hands. Day after day they pour forth speech; night after night they reveal knowledge.
I have to preface this post by saying that as a toddler Mum, I am far from an expert at stopping and stilling upon waking. In fact, you’re more likely to see me in the mornings, looking a little frazzled as I foolishly attempt to squeeze every drop of productivity from every given second—cue feeding the child, while packing the lunchbox, while unloading the dishwasher, while loading the laundry, while texting your mum friend with one thumb, anyone?
5 years on, this is a lesson that I continue to learn as the pull to hustle is so innate in our culture, and the call to self-sufficiency so engrained in my immigrant upbringing. If you, like me, are feeling weary from the tirade of ‘New Year, New Me’ resolutions and ‘Bigger & Better’ manifestations, then let me invite you to make a smaller and slower commitment: look up, be still, and stop and smell the sunrise.
This letter includes free journalling prompts for your personal reflection.
Stop & Smell the Sunrise
For years I was dependent on eyedrops, my only relief for parched and gritty eyes. I once lived out my days in cramped cubicles—lit up by fluorescent lamps and surrounded by withering pot plants. No matter the season, I would be typing in my thickest jumper, a shield against the wall of artificial fumes blasting from dusty vents above. Shivering and bleary eyed, I longed for a desk with window views.
A wise person once said that life under the sun was meaningless—an endless hamster wheel of gains and losses. Futility. In my pursuit of meaning, the sun became a stranger. By the time light kissed the horizon I was already in the office, stringing tired sentences on keyboards stained with yesterday’s lunch. Too much work, too little time. I never stopped to smell the sunrise.
Once I finally clocked out, the sun would have already moved on. Sometimes, I would look up to catch the wink of a star breaking through polluted skies—a glimmer of natural light quickly suffocated by million-dollar views. Returning home after dark, I would collapse on the couch with leftovers, before crawling into bed for the night. Even in the silence, I would hear the drill of tomorrow’s alarm, hurrying me to wake and to do it all again.
For what?
What do people gain from their toils under the sun?
In 2020, when calendars were cancelled and the world came to a standstill, I saw—perhaps for the first time—the gentle lifting of the city’s smog. I spent my mornings in my yard with the early birds and Psalms, allowing my words to come alive with a new and unhurried rhythm.
Look up.
Be still.
Stop and smell the sunrise.
The Psalmists once sang that day after day the heavens are declaring God’s glory (Psalm 19:1-2), but for far too long I was too distracted to even look up. In the words of Dallas Willard, “hurry is the great enemy of spiritual life in our day.” It’s no surprise why this is so. For me, the bend towards self-sufficiency has often meant glorifying overwork to feel in control. An attitude of: “if I don’t do it, who will?”
Falling asleep next to a device meant waking to deadlines and distractions that would inevitably dethrone God and push Him away into life’s margins. Screen addiction meant living in a constant state of looking down - scrolling, comparing, and looking at filtered images that would erode my awe of God’s beauty and wisdom in creation.
Like the rest of the world, 2020 was full of unplanned challenges and life lessons, but it gave me a much-needed window view of my Creator. Watching first-world idols of health and wealth topple over like dominoes made me realise how profound it is to know a God who can raise the sun and sustain the earth without limits or help. Glory.
Even still, how amazing that such a powerful being is clothed in gentleness and mercy—details I discovered in the coolness of the morning breeze and busy bees eating breakfast among delicate pastel blooms.
Walking my dog at dusk underneath cotton candy skies, I realised that perhaps our Creator brushes sunsets to inject resurrection hope to day’s end—so that in seasons where darkness sets, we can always trust, that our stories won’t end in ashes and even endings can be beautiful.
Day after day, the skies proclaim and the heavens declare God’s glory. As we begin a new year, let’s commit to looking up and out of our windows, stopping and smelling the sunrise, to being still and knowing God1.
PSALM 143 - Your Invitation to Look Up & Be Still
In 2020, I was so moved and inspired by God’s creation that I returned to my creative roots and took up landscape painting. I found a lot of comfort in filling my heart and mind with the Psalms, while brushing creation’s colours onto canvas.
My painting PSALM 143, is an invitation to look up and be still. Now available on Etsy, it’s my hope that this artwork will highlight your home with heaven’s hues and be a gentle reminder of God’s unfailing love upon waking:
“Let the morning bring me word of your unfailing love, for I have put my trust in you. Show me the way I should go, for to you I entrust my life.” - Psalm 143:8
A discount for my subscribers: Use promo code LETTERS30 to get 30% off my entire Etsy store until the end of January. Bundle with my ‘BORN TO US’ poem (vanilla package) to get an additional 5% off (total 35% off). Click here to get the discount automatically loaded to your cart.
Journalling Prompts
Are you enjoying some time off this week? Why not take the time to look up and be still with these journalling prompts which I’ve put together for readers. If quality time and meaningful chats is your thing, share with a friend and do it together!
1. What am I grateful for?
2. What am I grieving?
3. What is one area of growth I am proud of?
4. A new insight about God:
5. An answered prayer:
6. Book/film of the year:
7. Song of the year:
8. Who blessed me in 2024?
9. Who can I encourage or reconnect with in 2025?
10. A hope for 2025:
Warm & Fuzzies
Letters From Heidi is a reader supported publication. Thank you to Amanda H., Eileen W., Grace T., Francesca L., Ophelia T., Adele M., Jeff B., Stephen R.,
, , and Amanda T. for supporting my art which funds my writing. Thank you also to and for the generous reader recommendation on Substack.The best way to support this publication is with a free or paid email subscription.
From the Archives
Have time for some New Year reading? Catch up on my most popular posts from 2024 here!
“Be still, and know that I am God; I will be exalted among the nations, I will be exalted in the earth.” - Psalm 46:10
I love this! I’ve been trying to set my heart each morning by taking a moment to thank the Lord before getting out of bed. It’s a quick pause before forcing myself up to attend to my little ones, but it makes a difference. 💗
Oh Heidi, this is beautiful! What a good reminder. I don't feel like my year has started very slowly so this reminder is timely. And your painting... Wow, it's amazing!!