Yes, YES, Y. E. S. !!

Like so many, I've trudged through a long winter this year. Snow and ice have brought their own unique beauty, but my heart has longed for nourishing warmth, for the freedom to be outdoors without the confinement of coats, mufflers, boots, and gloves. Like this scraggly persistent geranium, I too lean toward the light and press my face against the glass.


I can get so mired in my own difficulties. To offset that, I pray daily, often hourly, for God to keep my heart and soul tender towards others and their journeys. I ask God to help me fulfill what Jesus presented as the two great commandments: to love God with all our heart and soul and mind, and to love our neighbor as ourselves.

The people in Haiti. In Japan. A friend whose husband and life-long dance partner just passed away. A mother who cares for grandchildren because their daddy--her son--is in prison. I ask God to help me pray for all these people. And I ask Him to help me have the courage to do whatever it takes to see healing in my own life, to keep hope alive when progress seems measured in 100 steps forward and 99 steps back. Help me, God, to cherish that one step forward.

God answered those prayers this morning by nudging me out the front door, to inspect my gardens. Here, after just a little elbow grease (well, maybe more than just a little), fresh flowing water will sparkle and bubble.












Here the sun has kept watch all through the winter and tells me to turn him around, so that he can bring a fresh smile.




















Here, just out of sight underground, extravagantly fuchsia peonies are gathering themselves, ready to spring skyward and burst into glorious bloom.











Here, daffodils and tulips, lilies and irises, all quiver with new life and listen for their time to emerge.

And here, oh wonder of wonders, at the far end of the garden, in the spot nearest the sun, poised to get the most warmth and light of all, tiny blades of hope show their face and make me almost cry with joy.

Spring doesn't "begin" just when the growth shows. It lives inside us during any long winter of the soul, out of sight perhaps, but ever growing, through cycles of blossom and rest, renewal and flowering. We must never give up hope. Never give up believing. The day will arrive when the growth finally shows above ground and we can glory in the visible beauty. But until that day comes, the whole world needs us to keep believing. Believe in what we can't yet see, but what our heart tells us is still alive, still growing, deep inside us.

Almost Midnight

The last few minutes of today trickle away. The rational part of me says, "Be quiet. Tomorrow you'll regret saying anything. Besides, what you're feeling is likely due to 'an undigested bit of beef.'" (courtesy of Mr. Scrooge).

Well, to my rational self I say: phbtphbtphbt (or however you spell out the sound of blowing raspberries.)

All too often I have overlooked, stepped around, stepped on fresh new beginnings because I didn't recognize them as such. At best I might have credited them as momentary blips of fantasy, too impractical for Real Life, or (here's the meanest one), not something I could really pull off.

Well. All that nonsense is gonna change. HAS changed. As of now.

I'm declaring publicly, right here and now, that I have abandoned my sweet real self long enough. So many years trying to please others. Trying to behave so that they won't leave me. Didn't work anyway. And all along my sweet self was waiting for me to notice her and give a thought or two about pleasing HER. About MY not leaving HER.

God made me to be me. My only true job/calling/mission is to be the me God made. I'm the only one who can do it. If I don't be me, then I leave a hole in God's universe.

And that's all I have to say for tonight. The clock has just struck midnight and I did NOT turn into a pumpkin. I turned into ME.

[most of the photos sprinkled throughout were taken a couple days ago on a walk by my beloved creek.]

Fresh Start

Had to post a follow-up to last night's musings. Rough rest of the night, sort of. Rough in that I couldn't fall asleep until past 2am. Sort of in that I prayed throughout the night and listened to hymns, all as oh-so-gently guided by the God Whose very name is Love. Climbed out of bed around 10am with a heart sweetly refreshed and comforted. Looked at the results of the watercolor splashings done just before bedtime and was surprised all over again.

Surprised because last night, I'd been happy I responded to the urge to do SOMETHING artistic to combat the blues, but disappointed that the watercolor hadn't turned out as I'd hoped. Surprised because evidently I had forgotten how much watercolor changes as it dries. REALLY surprised that I forgot this element, since that has always been part of that medium's appeal for me--that the artist can do her part in laying on the colors and choosing what paper or other surface and how much water to use and when, but that the colors and water and surface make the final decision as they dry and integrate with each other. This morning I saw lovely shadings and subtle variations where, last night, only puddles had rested. I was also delighted to find the picture I'd painted AFTER splashing on the journal pages--which I'd painted because it felt so good I just couldn't stop.

So, as tears dried throughout the night, so did the watercolors. This morning I could scratch out my thoughts on top this loveliness and be reminded all over again that I AM an artist. God made me that way. God has equipped me with all I need to express myself, in words and colors, in thoughts and actions. Heartdeep thanks to my Creator, and to my daughter for sharing, a few days earlier, her efforts to turn to the play with and production of art when she needs to shake herself loose from inertia.

away from home

I've been down in Mississippi for a week now, with my sister. 60-70 degrees, sunny now. Back home in South Dakota is shut down with a spring blizzard. Yesterday I walked down a path by the library and had these azaleas tower over me.

Besides having a lovely time with my sister and her family, plus a two-night visit from our brother and his wife, I am also experiencing more healing regarding my own life. Being away from my own house for over two weeks enables me to gain some mental distance from it. I've been wrestling with what to do with my life--from the sublime "What is my life's purpose?" to the mundane "What do I do with all this stuff?" I'm experiencing the expected shifting and changing and renewing associated with the natural event of children growing and leaving home, and also the UNexpected shifting connected with the UNnatural event of an unwanted divorce.

This time--away from home, and with dear family--is filling me with new direction and purpose. For that I give heartdeep thanks.