Fresh Start

Hello, dear ones.


This spring for me has been juicyfull with growth and new beginnings. I do so hope you have been having the same. Don't get me wrong: a lot of that growing has felt like the hacking of a hoe as it breaks up winterhard ground. Given a choice, I would have wanted to decline, except for the knowledge, hard won, that prepared ground receives seed far more easily.


During the past couple of weeks, I've been away at a Bible study conference in California. Deep diving into the Book of Books, at Asilomar ("refuge by the sea") on the Big Sur coast . . . for me, it doesn't get much better than that.



I've been home a handful of days now, spirit-saturated with an overflowing of gifts from the Divine: peace, direction, possibility, wonder, gratitude, hope, and so much more that dances just beyond the reach of words.


I'll let these images of the vision board I made yesterday speak to what I'm feeling. If the text is too small to read, try clicking on the image--that should enlarge it. [Nope, I just tried clicking and nothing happened. I'll add the text.] [Ah . . a lesson in dropping perfectionism--the first image was supposed to be last, but it got jigglebumped into the first spot, and I can't move it. Okay. I surrender. Happily.]

that big pink "empty" spot insisted on remaining "empty"

(the whole picture)

Something beautiful is happening.

Rediscover

. . . you owe it to yourself to experience

a true breakthrough

effortless and fluid

as if lit from within

emerge

lean into the mirror and say . . . wow

Dear fellow journeyers: may you feel God's tender touch today. Share with me, if you like.

Feeling Hopeful

It's 2:00 a.m.

Yep, I shoulda been in bed hours ago.

Instead, I'm here, paying tribute to beauty . . .

. . . to having survived a bitter long winter of the soul . . .

. . . to feeling the uncomfortable yet exceedingly welcome itch of new growth.

May you, too, experience the unutterable joy of having your heart come back to life.

I'm Back

Tonight's eastern sky, just before sunset.

I have no idea why so many weeks have elapsed between my last post and now. Or why, tonight, at 10 minutes after 10pm, I am suddenly here, writing. But here I am. I'm tired and ready for bed, and yet parts of my heart feel as sweetly fresh as this soon-to-be-blossoming lily, dressed in morning dew.

I feel as though I have been "in transition" forever and a day. Sometimes I honestly wonder if I will ever make it beyond transition. Will I ever grow to the point where old hurts are mainly healed? Will I ever manage to do much more than survive emotional crap?

Then I remember my new gratitude journal which gets written in multiple times a day. I remember the sharp sweetness of praying for friends in need these past weeks. I remember holy times of stillness recently when I have listened long enough, and deep enough, to feel God's presence so strongly I can almost touch it.

This, then, is enough. More than enough.

P.S. I've said it before, but will repeat it: it means a great deal to me when people leave comments. You don't need to say much. Just a "Hi there" means a lot. :)