Hey everyone! I haven’t posted in a while, but my group and I have officially been in Albania for three weeks now. Living in a family setting with a bunch of strangers has stretched me and taught me so much about myself and others, and I’ve genuinely loved getting to know everyone along the way.

For our first week, we stayed at a small hotel on Lake Ohrid, right near the border of Macedonia. That area was very touristy compared to Kotodesh, the small village we’re in now. Here, everything feels quieter, slower, and much more tucked away from the noise of busy streets. One of the biggest differences has been how we do everyday things, like getting groceries. Because we don’t have a car, we walk almost six miles to the store and back. What used to be a quick grocery run is now an ordeal that takes up at least 3 hours. At first, it felt inconvenient, but I’m starting to see it as part of the rhythm of life here.

On one of those long walks this past Friday, I noticed a shepherd sitting under a tree, quietly watching his goats while eating a piece of bread. He was all alone, with nothing but the wind in the grass to keep him company, and yet he looked completely content. There was no rush in him, no sense of restlessness, just presence. I tried to imagine myself in his place and realized that I would probably feel suffocatingly bored. I’ve grown so used to the fast-paced, dopamine-driven culture of the world I’ve grown up in, with the instant gratification of Instagram reels, Netflix, and high-speed Wi-Fi, that silence and stillness often feel uncomfortable.

The more I thought about it, the more it struck me that sitting in quiet without distraction is such a natural, human rhythm. Somewhere along the way, though, our culture traded it for constant noise. If we’re not multitasking, we’re scrolling. If we’re not busy, we feel guilty for resting. Here in Albania, however, life is slower and simpler, standing in sharp contrast to the fast and chaotic rhythm of Western culture. Watching that shepherd made me wonder what my walk with God might look like if I actually embraced stillness instead of running from it.

In Matthew 11, Jesus said, “Come to me, all you who are weary and burdened, and I will give you rest. Take my yoke upon you and learn from me, for I am gentle and humble in heart, and you will find rest for your souls.” That verse has taken on new meaning for me here. The shepherd reminded me that real rest isn’t found in distraction or constant activity, but in slowing down enough to be fully present with God.

Being intentional with the quiet time I spend with Him is something I want to focus on over the next couple of weeks. I hope that I’ll come out of this season with a renewed mindset when it comes to solitary silence, stillness, and (perhaps) even goat herding.