Self-Portrait

Yes, odd as it may seem, except to those of you who really know me :), I'm considering this lovely bloom as a pretty accurate picture of yours truly.

This is one of a cluster of geraniums I had growing outside last summer, and which I pulled in before a frost killed them. They have wintered beautifully indoors, right next to my "sit and think and read and write" chair.

As they inevitably grew toward the sunlight in the picture window, they would lean over my shoulder and drop luscious petals of hot pink and lipstick red, some on my lap and many more on the beige carpet below.

Nope, I didn't vacuum these petals. Too pretty. Too much of a gift of bright and brillliant beauty during a loooooooong winter.

I pinched off the tops of the several plants, thinking to "manage" their growth--hoping for thick versus leggy, concerned that leggy might snap off . . .but my sweet plants had their own ideas. They continued to strain toward the sun and shot out new splindly sprouts.

I surrendered my efforts to tell them how best to grow and just took a little easel and upended it in their soil and provided a couple loops of cotton twine to loosely secure the tallest stems. They seem safe enough now.

At last count, 9 clusters of buds are in various stages of bloom. I've never had so many at one time.

I've also never felt so much bud and blossom in my own life.

Yes, the winter of my journey has seemed very long and drear, but all during it, I also insisted on blooming. The light has also irresistibly drawn me toward it. During times when I just wanted to give up, God was there to reassure me: "Even if you let go, dear one, I'm still holding on to you." And dear friends and family have also reached out to express very specific love and tender encouragement. For that, I give my deepest thanks.