If my first story was about clearing the clutter from my life, this one is about what I’ve chosen to plant in that cleared space. It starts even before that, with what I received from God in terms of redemption and love. My faith grew over a lifetime because God had infinite patience with me. He never calculated my success, but cherished my heart, into a life that wants to honour Him.
I believe urban slowsteading isn’t just a lifestyle choice; it’s part of my discipleship. It’s the way I practice my faith in the ordinary moments of everyday life: in my kitchen, in the garden, and even in the middle of the grocery store aisle.

The Spiritual Roots of Slowsteading
Jesus spoke often about seeds, soil, and growth. He compared the true faith to a mustard seed, something tiny that grows into a sheltering tree (Matthew 13:31–32). When I tend my garden, I am reminded that the smallest acts of care, repeated over time, can grow into something beautiful and life-giving.
For me, slowsteading is a way of living out this truth: that the Kingdom grows quietly, patiently, in places where we are faithful with what we have. In a world that chases faster, bigger, and shinier, we should choose a gentler, more intentional pace, which allows us to listen to God and love others well.
Stewardship as Worship
Urban slowsteading is, at its heart, about stewardship. The chickens, bees, and herbs on my kitchen windowsill aren’t just hobbies. They are reminders that creation care is not optional; it’s part of the very first job description given to humanity (Genesis 2:15).
When I compost, save seeds, or make soup from scratch, I am practicing gratitude for the resources God has given me. It doesn’t mean I do it perfectly. I still buy convenience food sometimes and throw out more plastic than I’d like, but the intention is there: to honor God by honoring what He has placed in my hands.
Sabbath Rhythms in City Life
One of the biggest lessons I’ve learned is that slowsteading builds in the natural rhythms of Sabbath. I am forced to pause, notice the seasons, and accept that some things can’t be rushed, such as a loaf of bread rising or a seed germinating.
Those moments become opportunities for prayer, reflection, and rest. They are my chance to lay down the burden of hurry and to remember that I am not what I produce. I am a beloved daughter of God. The discipline it takes to break this world’s hurried habits is an act of relational joy that I cherish in my commitment to God.
A Witness in the Everyday
Urban slowsteading has also opened the door to hospitality. When neighbors stop by for fresh eggs, when I share a jar of homemade jam, when we gather for a Wednesday table meal, it invites a deeper connection.
I believe we are called to this quiet witness: a life that causes others to ask, “Why is your home so peaceful? Could you tell me why this simple meal feels sacred?” It gives me a chance to share gently the hope that shapes everything I do (1 Peter 3:15).
Holding Space for Others
Not everyone who finds their way to Rosemary Road shares my faith, and that’s okay. My goal is not to preach to anyone but to live in a way that makes hope, peace, and joy visible.
If you are a person of faith, I hope my words remind you that you can integrate your walk with God into the smallest details of daily life. And if you are simply curious about slowing down and tending to what matters, you are welcome here too.
Living This Out
How does this present itself in practice?
- Morning prayers with a cup of tea instead of scrolling my phone first thing.
- Planting something every season — a tangible reminder that God is always doing something new.
- Creating margin in my calendar so I can be available when someone needs a listening ear.
- Using my table as a ministry, inviting others to share not just food but conversation, encouragement, and laughter.
These are small acts, but together they create a life rooted in faith and presence.
Your Invitation
Whether you share my faith or simply long for a slower, more meaningful way of living, I invite you to experiment with one practice this week.
Brew tea without multitasking. Cook one meal with intention. Notice where you feel God—or peace, or beauty—meeting you in the middle of your ordinary life.
This is where transformation begins: not in a dramatic overhaul, but in choosing to walk with purpose on the road right in front of you.
Rosemary Road Reflection Prompts
Take a quiet moment with a journal, a cup of tea, and these questions. Don’t rush; let them become part of your conversation with God, or a space to listen to your heart.
Presence & Beginnings
- Where in my current life do I feel hurried, cluttered, or stretched too thin?
- What’s one small “soft dirt” area where I could begin again? (Think: one drawer, one habit, one relationship.)
- How does beginning small make me feel—relieved, anxious, hopeful?
Faith & Stewardship
- When I think of Genesis 2:15 (“The Lord God took the man and put him in the garden… to work it and keep it”), what does that mean for how I care for my home, time, and environment?
- How do I see God’s provision in my everyday life right now? Where might He be inviting me to be a better steward?
Rhythms & Rest
- How does Sabbath manifest for me—not just in one weekly instance, but in daily pauses?
- Did I slow down enough to notice the beauty of what God is already growing in my life?
Hospitality & Witness
- When was the last time I opened my home or table to someone? How did it feel?
- What’s one small way I could practice hospitality this month—even if it’s as simple as sharing tea with a neighbor or writing a handwritten note?
Growth & Gratitude
- Looking back over the last year, where do I see personal growth?
- What am I most grateful for in this current season—even if it’s imperfect or still in process?
May these reflection thoughts and small, meaningful actions inspire and motivate you to regain your peace and experience joy in the ordinary.