Spring arrives, bringing new life. Trees budding, flowers blooming, the air warming. Then comes summer, stretching days longer, inviting us outside, shifting our schedules.

But what if these seasons became more than just transitions in the calendar? What if they became invitations—opportunities to pause, reflect, and recalibrate?

As you enter this time of year, consider these seven suggestions. Not as another to-do list, but as a way to embrace life with intention.

1. Read to Remember

Books hold stories, wisdom, and reminders we need. Whether it’s Scripture, a devotional, a novel, or a biography, let spring and summer be seasons of reading—not just for information, but for transformation.

In Pause, I wrote about slowing down long enough to listen. Reading helps us do that. When we read, we step away from the rush. We learn. We remember.

Paul urged Timothy to bring the scrolls and parchments (2 Timothy 4:13). He needed words. So do we.

What will you read this season? And what will you let it read in you?

2. Pray to Stay

Prayer isn’t just about asking; it’s about abiding. Staying close. Staying aware. Staying with God in the middle of every moment.

The Psalms remind us of this rhythm: “Be still, and know that I am God” (Psalm 46:10). Jesus lived this, slipping away to pray, re-centering Himself in the Father’s presence.

Let spring and summer be seasons of prayer—not just before meals, but in the quiet of the morning, in the pauses of the afternoon, in the hush of the evening.

Pray when you don’t feel like it. Pray when you do. Pray as a way of staying with the One who stays with you.

3. Journal to Process

Life moves fast. Thoughts swirl. Feelings shift. Journaling slows us down enough to see what’s really happening inside.

In Equilibrium, I talk about finding balance in life’s uneven places. Journaling helps with that. It captures moments, prayers, and reflections. It turns fleeting thoughts into tangible words.

David did this in the Psalms—writing his struggles, joys, and questions before God.

What if you did the same? What if this season became a time of writing—not for an audience, but for your own soul?

4. Walk to Wonder

There’s something about walking. The rhythm of steps. The fresh air. The movement that frees the mind and opens the heart.

Jesus walked often. He walked with disciples. He walked to new places. He walked alone to pray.

A spring or summer walk can be more than just exercise—it can be an act of worship, a time of clarity, a space for conversation with God.

So take a walk. And while you do, don’t rush. Don’t scroll. Just notice.

5. Notice Creation to Remember the Creator

Spring and summer sing of God’s handiwork. The green of trees. The warmth of sunlight. The laughter of waves. The renewal of life all around us.

Psalm 19:1 says, “The heavens declare the glory of God; the skies proclaim the work of his hands.” But we have to slow down long enough to notice.

Instead of letting these months rush past, pause to look. Listen. Breathe in the beauty around you. Let creation remind you of the Creator.

6. Sit in Silence

Noise is everywhere. But wisdom is often found in silence.

Elijah discovered this. He expected God in the wind, the earthquake, the fire. But God spoke in a whisper (1 Kings 19:11-12).

Silence isn’t empty; it’s full of presence. Full of grace. Full of God.

This spring and summer, create spaces for quiet. Turn off the noise. Put away the phone. Just sit. Just listen. Just be.

7. Hand It Down

What we do in these seasons won’t just shape us—it will shape those around us.

In Things We’ve Handed Down, I wrote about the stories, lessons, and values we leave for others. This spring and summer, think about what you’re passing down—not just in words, but in the way you live.

Who needs your encouragement? Who needs your presence? Who needs the wisdom you’ve gained?

These months won’t last forever. But the way you live them can leave a lasting impact.

So, seven simple suggestions. Seven invitations to slow down, to live well, to see more clearly.

Which will you embrace?

Let spring and summer be seasons of remembering, praying, journaling, walking, noticing, listening, and passing on what matters most. Let them be seasons where you pause long enough to truly live.