Deep water .

A ‘ for sale ‘ sign is all it took and now we are in freefall over the edge.

Doors close on our life as we sign it over and go insearch of a new home to make our own .

Half a life. Half a legacy. Half is what we have to start again .

Half is not what I seek to find .
Wholeness, fullness and completion  is what Im looking for .

Life has been cyclonic at best .
These last years have been pain unparalleled and have stretched my faith and capacity beyond what I ever thought Id walk .

To get back up again and again when all I’ve wanted was endless sleep has taken its toll…

Knowing little hearts needed holding has been the catalyst that kept me reaching out , showing up and doing what needed to be done.

Somehow through the haze of salty tears, brokenness and rage we’ve come through together not as damaged as before.

Life stopped short, hearts shattered .. Identity torn apart . 

Our world spun on its axis and tumbled to the very end of everything that was solid ground. Balancing on the edge itself I find myself with a choice ..

Stay here precarious and raise my girls or jump, risk freefall and land in the unknown.
Dive willfully into the deep insearch of freedom itself.

Jump we did and the deep is where we find ourselves and Im no stranger here .
Ive been in over my head plenty of times before. But never out this far.

This has been a season of total reckoning .This instability has shaken every facet of our lives. Circumstance keeps my feet from touching bottom still and the waves keep thundering overhead .

I have felt drowned on more then one occasion .Totally incompetant for the tasks at hand .
Yet out here in the deep is where I am .

The risk however seems to be paying off …

Faith held our heads above the water line. Breathed life to stifled lungs .

Grace extended hands that bore us back to the surface time and time again and spoke life to our broken hearts .

Love is boyancy.

Truth cuts the weights that lies tied around our feet threatening to drag us under.

In the deep out beyond the breakers its were freedom exists.
Beyond reason and security .
Beyond the trials and torments of broken trust and damaged hearts .
Beyond fury and manipulation .
Beyond the lies that sort to use us up and drown us totally.
Beyond the crashing waves is the deep.

The deep requires faith to venture into . 
Faith to duck dive under breakers time and time again with the hope that once we pass the impact zone calm waters will exist.

As the tide washes out around us we pickup momentum moving faster through the channels taking us deeper still .

To my suprise Im finding the snorkle and life raft I’ve been clinging to so desperately evaporating …
No longer do I need a lifepreserver to exist out here.
Im growing gills and fins and scales all at once at lightning speed as faith excersized increases in volume filling the internal voids.
Driving away that doubt and unbelief.

The deep becomes my home and theres freedom being found out so far from safeties shore .

Here in the deep our existence rests solely grace and not the whims of another but in mercies own heart and my own two hands.

The deep is liberating.
This inbetween of almost free and not quiet home is space to dare to dream new dreams and  pray new prayers.

Theres room here to stretch out in this faith now unchained and no longer weighted down.

I can lift my voice here loud ..no need to edit my thoughts or silence my declarations.

The timid washes away and courage takes hold in its place.
The deep no longer scares me ..
I’ve found my fit in a leap of faith .

What shores we wash up on are yet to be seen…
Where home is I dont yet know .  Theres process and protocal to follow here that leaves us resting on faith alone as practically our hands are tied for a little longer.

But the deep is calmer now.
Beckoning us farther out again .
As horizons fade away from view so do the limitations I had placed around our lives .
From here our tomorrows are infinite in possibilities.
Intrigue as to whats to come now drives us forward .
Cautious excitement is seeping into the places that once held anxieties narrative.

For everything we’ve lost and grieved whats coming promises to outweigh that pain with joyful new beginings and fresh starts ahead .

Tides turning once again.
Love lights the way home.

Ashes



It is possible to live at the bottom..exist at basement level…waste a life holding onto fakery..projecting to the world what isn’t.

Fear and her lover Pride seek to keep us beaten down and stuck. Twisted ,contorted ,deformed and devoured by the lies they spin and we are burnt away to ashes in the inferno they create. 

They lock us into cycles that do nothing but shackle us and snatch light from our days.

I guess to find a life again one must let go of everything you thought it would be and jump eyes wide open into the uncertainty of tomorrow.

It takes muscle to find courage and face fear head on.

Truth is strength, its kryptonite to pride.

Truth shatters pride crushing it till all that’s left is raw integrity lying amongst the dust.

It creates breathing room for new beginnings .  

Honesty is owning mistakes..shouldering the weight and lifting it higher.

Forgiveness I’ve found holds keys to freedom… It gives a soul wings to soar.

Humility makes for lighter hearts..it climbs ladders that pride never could.

After all you cant remedy what you won’t acknowledge.
Can’t rebuild with broken glass…

I’m learning healing comes at dust level. When there’s nothing left to hold. Nothing to lose.

Ashes are where it’s at.

So in this upside-down existence, Im finding destruction is building.
Chaos  life-giving. 
Pain is the beginning of healings walk.
Dust and even scattered ashes are heaven blessed.


Divine love breathes hope into hopeless spaces.. and nothing is beyond mercies reach .

Honesty is everything. For there is nothing without her light.

…And in her glow we are found so beautifully broken that this bottom we have hit signals that the only way from here is up.

 

 

 

 

 

She is….(for B ❤)

Impossibly flawed and oh so broken…still she walks as queen.

Head held higher defying the ache inside.

Youd never know the depths of sorrows overcome. She is victorious .

Her integrity is made complete by humilities seasoning.
She is beauty and brokeness all at once.
A masterpiece in the making.
Dust refined into being by the artists hands.

She carries the blue prints of heaven deep in her soul.
Her path is kingdom laid .

The presence of ten thousand angels feed her courage .

She walks encircled.

Wisdom of the ages is at her beck and call.

With each stride made grace pours down and washes the earth beneath her feet.
She is holy and this now holy ground.

Sanctified and sacred.

Her beauty elemental.

Flowing like a current from soul deep…

down rivers of cracked and broken
out her finger tips into the atmosphere.
She’s electric.
Intricate, one of a kind.

Irreplaceable, unforgettable, indefinable.

She cannot and will not be contained. Her soul has swum deeper than any ocean.
Her prayers break through the outer reaches of furthest galaxies.
She is not limited by time and space.

Infinite and wild as any raging sea.

Her faith and compassion stand her tall.
Though she may be knocked down broken she will never be destroyed.
She knows how to rise.
She is master swordsman.

When She lifts her gaze to higher things the heavens are her home.
Loyalty is on her breath..faithful her hearts cry.

She is a master at connection.
Built for depth and real.
A wellspring of hope and light into darkest stratospheres.

 

Grace is her garment.
Peace her shoes.
Truth her battle cry.
Crown of glory adorns her head
Mercy falls from her lips like a waterfall…washing healing over all she encounters.

She speaks the language of  angels.
Her heart is held safe in the hands of the divine.
Honor runs through her veins.

Her eyes behold the unseen.Shes gifted insight into tomorrow.

She lifts her voice with sure authority. She will not be silence.

Created for freedoms call. To advance and not be halted.

Her heart is guarded by discernment. She takes pause, waits for clarity.

She is unrushed and sure footed.
Time and season don’t define her.

Love and belonging is her legacy. Wholeness and completion her birthright.
Freedom her inheritance

Destiny dances in whimsical abandonment before her eyes and shes confident in the script she lives knowing all of heaven goes before her.Testing the way..weaving a path.. orchestrating it all for good.

 

Grace upon grace

Grace….how heavy life would be,

how hopeless if not for grace.


Grace brings rebirth.


Renewing..

Grace means it’s not what you bring to the table…. but who you are.


Grace says it’s not all up to you.


Grace turns vulnerability into strength unparalleled.


It’s not the measure of your worth by your accomplishments but the intrinsic value of your soul.


Grace is the gentle whisper that says try again tomorrow.


Grace says that you are worthy of love.


Grace breathes forgiveness, hope and lights up darkest valleys with promise.

Grace says you are enough.

You can overcome.

Grace holds space.. Pauses time. Rewrites legacy.


Grace craves integrity, walks hand in hand with courage to seek honesty in everything.

Grace dissolves shame and fear..

Births hope into the darkest atmospheres.


Grace says there is always hope.

 

Precipitation .

Raging fires and devastating drought have overwhelmed this part of the world that we call home and it really has felt like life imploded over the last twelve months.

Like the internal and external environments around us have reflected and refracted the same theme and there’s been little reprieve from the onslaught..

Impossible diagnosis had launched herself into our stratosphere and we were caught in the whirlwind of trying to process exactly what those words would mean to the way life needed to be walked.

January held Acute Myeloid Leukemia,

June a heart attack then strokes x 4 Life shattering disability following in its wake

August marriage and family collapsed in an avalanche of lies undone. If lies were liquid the drought would have broke by now a thousand times over.

But they arnt so water got scarcer. The green pastures turned to dry cracked earth and trees and gardens of our own oasis die.

Temperatures rise quickly with summer coming earlier then she used to . No afternoon storms this year to break the heat. Just hot dry parched landscape. Selfishly I’m thankful for their lack. Storm watching was a favorite pass time in years of love gone by.

Fire season struck with vengeance burning hard and fast with no escape It seemed the whole world might burn and there was no stopping it.

The blue sky disappearing behind walls of smoke for weeks on end the earth here bathed in orange glow. Nights moon shone red through the acrid haze. Ash fall on everything and its like gazing at life through a sepia lense.

Colourless…void and dying.

But we were blessed . Spared the losses that others have faced …it stopped being a question of if but when the fires come and I realised that was exactly like our life.

Inevitable it is that pain will come. Heartache is it seems an equal opportunist of truest form.

And whilst I cry out at the injustice. At the disappointment ,and the needless mess.

I find necessity to get back up. Can’t hover here in despair..

I’m not fighting flames that threaten to consume but the dark that seeks to infiltrate this space that’s carved for glorys presence..

And in the fight to stand back up.. I find my voice….the breaking holds blessings in disguise and isn’t this the way of freedoms walk ?

I find courage seeping into the empty spaces..spured on by those who hold integrities hand. Despondent prayers are flung heavenwards and the troposphere cracks her reluctant floodgates…

Rain downpours as a Christmas wish come true drenching our arid earth and barren hearts a fresh with glorious liquid blessing.

Fires are extingished by heavens own hand and we are ever awed.

The reprieve this brings is divine intervention to an overdone soul.

The danger isn’t gone completely,theres still blazes to be fought. But each new step forward, Each time my gaze shifts higher, we gain ground.

Freedom comes at the cost of heartbreak a result of trust mislayed .Its a bitter lesson learnt.

Rain holds the promise of restoration..its grace tangible.

The dark retreats and glory edges back .A voice rises up louder then before. Wings stretch out ,arms link and we advance untouched.

Smoke and mirrors still try their hand at shaking this new courage that we’ve found.Threats seek to shut down this boldness.But it seems freedom has unshackled controls rigid grip and we will have none of that.

Faith stirs deep again feeding on glorys fire and I learn that burning bridges can it seems illiminate better the way then floodlights ever could.

Rain will come eventually. Droughts will break . Rivers will flow and life will begin again… The glory space will hold strong and despair will be a distant memory.

Contrast

Life’s full of contrast.This last season was pain unparalleled and provision unequalled all at once .Identity shifted, thwarted,stolen perhaps…yet blessed, loved and seen better then before.By ones I never expected to be there .

Now days I’m introduced as the “single mum”.. Ahh.. never wanted that title. It’s not that I can’t do it.I know I have capacity. I just never wanted too. It’s not meant to be this way.

I miss the idea of another. The reality however is easier to release.

That in itself is sad truth.

If love rang true it might be harder to let go… But love fell short more then once. Love wasn’t just blind but distracted,absent and unaware.Love hid from life and wished for a different path.The family created wasn’t enough to fill the void.Love grew cold like ice and cruel followed .Wrapped all up in self alone it stopped seeing the hearts it held allowing them to slip through fingers, grip slipped, fallen, shattered, lost.

Love looked at this heart to give it joy.. But truth is its impossibly unwise to source happiness in something external.Destined to disappoint,this heart not created to fill such space.

Truest joy is birthed from within.. Forged in fires of contrast it shines brightest. This heart has learnt that secret well. So in the absence of love…joy remains and contrary wise increases more and more freely now that it is uncrushed by the heartache of life with a broken other.

Loving deep whilst living unseen unknown and unfelt is an lonely existence indeed. Here I find despite the ache there is freedom in this space of disguard…Perhaps I should feel bitter disdain, sorrow, anger, jealousy maybe at being so easily replaced…to be replaced before even being disguarded is a vicious blow to ones pride most definitely. Still no one ever died from wounded pride…It has perhaps potential to be a fatal hit to a heart that loves completely. Or so I would have thought. But as it turns out this heart of mine is tougher then it seems. Able to bear a blow like this and rise again. Not taken out by worst fears realised.

Most definitely there’s been damage. Abundant tears cried to wash the burning ache and soothe the scar.But scar tissue is stronger then the flesh surrounding.This isn’t this hearts first round in the ring . It’s been through more then one rough beating and stood up against the odds before.

Ive learnt that courage not to fear the dark but resolve to face it armed with light makes surviving victorious these rounds an easier task.

We are promised a life complete with troubles. Hard is inevitable.Tragedy will strike ,hearts will break and none of it seems fair.This is the rich tapestry of our human existence. There’s no escaping it.

The secret Ive learned is to steady myself enough to survive the impending storm.Placing my back against something steadfast and praying for gritt enough to hold on tight.Weather the blows and hold strong to the knowing that hearts achieve restoration with time if they are empowered to forgive and even messy endings birth new beginnings full of possibility.

Space ,grace and time hold healing powers of their own and even a desolate season will run its course eventually. Nothing earthly is forever, tomorrow always comes until it doesn’t and hope when realigned with faith and heavens plan is never really lost.

So while I stand on shifting sands. . unstable as I am. . . between heartache and closure there is joy here amongst the pain. As eras end and dreams are buried..new ideas of adventure sow seeds deep and take root in this cracked earthen heart.Watered with tears of grief, prayers for grace and vows to live more fully from here on out.

The contrast shows the value of time. The importance of savouring it all.I notice and soak in the moments now that I have long overlooked and find in them reprieve enough to keep on walking.Allowing dreams and glorious ideas to take hold, sprout root or wing and follow where they lead.

Thankful for the outpouring of love from hearts of friends and family that once I held at distance. Grateful for their arms of grace that catch me when I trip,fill my glass and heart a fresh and breath connection back into this isolated space .

Hope for light filled memories, opportunities to really live.Embracing the ache is I’ve learnt the only way to recover freedom lost. The contrast is life-giving. A lesson to priceless to explain that must be felt to be truly understood.

So in this space of reckoning… In the messy middle hours… I am thankful for this walk. This undoing. This ache has taught my eyes to see new things. To walk in truth more boldly then I did before.

When you’ve walked worst fears and to your surprise survived there is little to hold you back at boundary lines of life.

Courage spreads her wings and calls to the deep in me..take flight there’s a world to see. Imagination and daydreams beckon stirring excitement at the possibilities of a life fully lived . Adventures promise illuminates, its contagious giggle is heard again in the garden in little voices playing louder….Joy circles back again flooding in and life is in stark contrast. Messy, broken beautiful all at once.

Prism

It seems with all that has been lost of late some years have fallen away too. Heavy taxing years that brought weight to these shoulders and creases to this brow vanish into thin air.

Age it seems is running in reverse as the clock ticks backwards and lost hopes are revived from the ashes of a hefty existence.

The grey that wove itself like a blanket all across our world has dissolved into a rush of technicolour. The limits I had, in absent-minded slumber, accepted for my life are peeled back one by one being found counterfeit with every layer.

Tears still come, but less frequent now. Traumas raw edges smooth with time and strength takes griefs seat at the table when given space enough.

Discipline to harness the overwhelms of a runaway mind is being developed. Now those tormenting thoughts are captured before they get loose enough to cause much damage.

This heart still holds the shadow of memory …it always loved, but hearts are easily deceived …infatuation it seems resembles love to a faithless unlearned heart ….as much as lies resemble truth to one that seeks to believe it so.

Naivety is no longer an option but in the raw light of realities presence, the world comes to life again. Rainbow possibilities dance like light through prisms across this new years dawning.

Dreams once cherished but long since passed over spring back into the realms of possibility. A second chance to live again without the sacrifice of freedom, of identity … Visions of tomorrow dance before my eyes weaving patterns that shift and change in a kaleidoscope of mesmerising colour. My breath catches in my chest as prayers are lifted higher.

Id never pick this for our story. I hate the disfunction of the journey.The ache in their eyes often more then I can stand …..but the independence is heaven-sent. Provision in its truest form.Sweet silver linings to a bitter onslaught.

While we are it seems destined for struggle…I have learnt that pain has a purpose .. And when I trust long nothing is wasted. Sometimes heartbreak is the making of us .. wherein shackles are removed and voices refined.

This fire that was sent to destroy this heart only served to temper it. Strength is found surprisingly within the expression of vulnerability. Integrity birthed from raw honesty.Freedom stirs from the seeds of surrender.

To embrace the process instead of fear it… This is the secret I have struggled to learn.

While this sole rages still at the injustice of it all..the foolish wastefulness that discards a life, a family that was long fought hard for…The spirit stirs within breathing oxygen back into tomorrow. Promising hope and second chances.

To really live, love and be loved in return. To seek adventure freely. To connect completely without shame and secrets holding this heart back at the boundary lines. Freedom to lift a voice, a heart heavenward not caring for anyone’s approval nor bracing against their disdain.

Our world is alive with colour…it bathes the heavy-hearted ache and washes it in glorious light infusing hope as it swirls around the corners of our home.

Joy follows behind. .. Slowly she washes back into their laughter. They dream again. Play again. Exhale less laboured than before.

The weight is lifting and the world has opened up again as it was once before me long ago. Unchained, transformed and We are free.

Nameless.

Endless cycles of broken and breaking only to scar and tear and scar again. Layer upon layer upon layer upon layer and there’s no escape from the torment. The demons won’t leave. No peace. No safe space… Guarded hidden behind a wall of lies.. Fakery the only language. Life devoid of hope.. Devoid of living water. No refreshment.

Empty business fills the days and the sweat of labor is squalled away in all the inbetween hours. Nights are filled with numbing and distraction that pulls down deeper darker…its blackness intoxicates and consumes.. Contrasted only by bright empty eyes and flashy false smiles that scream as they seduce with empty promises of fulfillment, and satisfaction .To have it all… To hold excess. ..but they steal more then they give robbing life with every round. Draining a soul dry…

Battered and bruised by the work of own hands. Unconscious self-sabotage…drags under again. Like a black hole it consumes all around .. Promising to devour..decite has hold in its ice-cold grasp … And it must be a welcoming space I think .. better than the endless fighting of conscious.To proud to reach out. To ashamed to seek help.No recognition of truth amoung lies .

And here we are.. Life stopped short. Can a trauma be a saving grace?

Can this hell bring healing?

Does destruction herald restoration? Can so many broken hearts be healed?

Can a shattered life, family find grace for the new day?

Cause in this space of blackness. Of the darks cold breath down ones neck it seems that all is lost forever.

Truth is messy. But this mess is said to promise freedom?

And I don’t see how but I’m beginning to understand.. Heaven has loved me and loaned me his eyes to view the unlovely with glorious insight.

The stripping of secrets..Now only serve to dig the other deeper. No way to stop truths explosion.

Undoing is grace?

My eyes now opened. . . No longer held spell bound in a fantasy of falseness.

Heart break is grace?

This madness… Insanity. Absence of logic and kindness is freedom somehow as it makes the letting go easier..the absence sweeter still .

But this I don’t understand. Is there freedom in madness? Is insanity a reprieve? does it hold promise too or is this blackness exposed in all its filth?

And I begin to grasp that the only way to unstick us from the others demise was to shatter it all..to tear it apart exposing the darkness..we couldn’t save ourselves so heaven intervened.

And somehow in the unsticking of this other, we become free. Eyes wide open. Life exposed, false reality shattered and there is freedom here.

Can trauma hold healing? Can this chaos be blessed and produce fruit? Is destruction life-giving?

And all I know is what I see and what I see with eyes of heaven is divine hands holding us. Leading us… Dirty broken hurting us. He walks us through and breathes grace..intertwining us with love working it all for good.

Here hope lies waiting… When the anger wanes. When I loosen my grip on the ache..hope draws breath.

This is a year of restoration,and while in no way does it look like I thought it would ,he is a God of his word.

Mess

For a long time I’ve held my tongue ..then one day not so long ago our world came undone …..

How do I do this… Hold my head up and walk in faith? For the longest time I’ve held disappointments hand… I know the valleys well.

Well trodden paths of heartache and loneliness. I’ve survived on scraps of affection between round after round of tear down . All the while believing a new dawn was coming…I stayed the course. Honoured my vows.

Believed and held firm to the promises given… and now here I am.

Betrayed. Sinking.

Fear creeps closer as the rage that’s not my own echos through the atmosphere unhinged it lingers threatening .Hope and trust is shattered again and again … the weight of this life and all its responsibilities cave in on me. My hands are empty and trembling. Feet stand on borrowed ground. Nothing is certain and stability forgotten.

There are 4 little hearts in tow too and I just don’t know how to navigate this… So many voices. Opinions. Instructions. A to-do list that threatens to destroy any remaining sanity. … No peace to get quite. No space to be still. except in these long night shift hours…

But I’m so tired.

I’ve let my heart harden in self-protection ..put my desires and dreams to bed.

Disgust fills the space that once loved deep… Shame ,in my foolishness of not reading the cues, weaves a cloak that hangs heavy off my shoulders.

I can’t even pray as I used to.. words feel empty and echo in this in-between space… Even tears are better than numb..but here I am.. Allowing numb so I can function. Something I swore I’d never do again.

I don’t like the girl this walk is creating. Faith falls flat as the risk of holding it seems too much to bear.

And I don’t even know what I want.. The dream is now unbelievably tainted. Hope seems poison.

Friends who should have held our hearts and warned us of the impending storm didn’t… Integrity is a lost art it seems .

And these 4 little hearts are shattered.

Childhood done with at lightening speed. And I’m to broken to hold them in the way they need most.

I can’t stop the onslaught. I can’t stem the incoming tide. Each encounter breaking the ties that connect them a little more. The bonds that are precious so willfully frayed and he does not see or is it care enough for them and I can’t stop it.

My words are hollow. Shallow comfort to their aching bones. . .

Betrayed, lied too, let down, again and again, and again.

This mess less glorious than ever before… At the end of myself.

I crave dream free sleep. To switch off and not exist for as long as it takes for this season to pass. This is the valley of death. Its dark here..no air.

Where is my rescuer?.my breakthrough?

Always on time? Ever faithful? Always good?

No, my faith isn’t missing. Not lost in this storm… Just my capacity to rise..the buoyancy that’s carried me through so much thus far is ebbing… My fight is empty..halfhearted and vague… Bitterness sneaks around the corners of my mind and I am jaded.

This is not who I want to be. This all-consuming ache will not be the definer of my story.

I tell myself it’s only a chapter..the page will turn soon. There’s more to this life then this valley… I long for mountaintop views. Stability. Freedom…to live life not balanced on the rare good grace of tyrannical other but to be free to write my own ending.

To lift these 4 little hearts high and show them the world. I crave adventure…freedom and light. Its been dark for so long.. Surely the turnaround is overdue?

Surely enough of the trauma. I’ve kept my end still. Still stand, still honour, Still trust. But I need to breathe and oxygen is missing … When will this end ?How much more can a broken heart take before it withers entirely? Feels like a final blow to end a long season of being hammered.

The highs and lows are never seen coming and change so very quickly I can’t keep up… Being thrown around like a rag doll is taking its toll.

I’m told I’m strong. But strength isn’t knowing how to roll with the punches. I see stupidity maybe as I keep getting up and placing heart in the ring…..

And then somehow truths explosive appearance comes unsought and unexpected again and I am undone.

But once the rage explodes through me making victims of memories then settles again I find new freedom in this in-between…

Maybe each increment of ground walked is a slow and steady path to freedom?

As groans of ache give way to a lionesses growl and the intimidation and shame I wrongly carried slips off my shoulders , I even now already seem to stand a little taller. A little more steady…

Feet more sure, Heart ready to push back the bully out of our way… Not willing to be shut down, silenced or intimidated any longer.No Im done with fear.

Taking back the right to live free starts with owning the truth.

No more shame… No more hidden ache. It’s out for all the world to see.

And here I find the strength to see through eyes of faith that in whatever we lost holds nothing in comparison to what’s to come.

Autumn…

Midday sun is warm on my face and the wind whips high around the tops of the trees that line our garden spilling rust and gold colored autumn leaves down to the earth.

The garden is getting ready to sleep. The autumn flowers are showcasing their last sprays of color in rich abundance and the citrus trees are slowly turning from green to vibrant orange. Dragonflies fill the space between the falling leaves and the wind howls high painting a soundtrack to my afternoon.

Why do I love autumn so much? Maybe it’s the lower UV levels… It’s becoming safer for our shade seeker to play longer outside.

Or maybe it’s just the way this country life showcases the changing seasons. Coastal life doesn’t mark the changing of seasons so well as this place.No, palm trees, and golden sandy beaches hold nothing against the seasonal contrasts that can be found in the country.

Here warm house fires burn and the smell of winters approach fills the air. Long nights fireside.Marshmallows… Savoring hot cuppas accompanied by long conversations on the sun deck is my favorite pass time.

I’ve learned that change is good. Blessed even.

I didn’t always feel this way. The prospect of change filled me with dread. The unknown has a way to undo one’s composure sowing anxiety into the heart. Change is uncomfortable, to say the least.

But no… I long for change. I welcome it in with open arms. New beginnings with old accomplices. A different adventure. Who wants to stay stuck? Never moving from season to season. Never growing, becoming. Who wants to put in the work but not bear witness to the fruit of their labor? No, change is good.

Change is growth. Labor pains whilst inherently painful and difficult to bear give birth to new life and blessing. Growing is painful. The uncertainty that floods in with new ideas feel unstable until it takes root. So in the seasons of wobble filled with the aches of uncertainty I’m learning to hold tight to the hope that the season will change. The pain will give way to new adventures. I’m learning to trust the processes that lead me out of one place and into another.

Like long summer days fading into cool autumn nights…I welcome the winter with its frozen mornings and the wonder on the girls faces as they sprint across the yard their breath all icy fog and frost covered grasses crunching audibly underfoot.

Change is good. Blessed even.