An Empath’s Prayer

May I see with my heart and feel with focused awareness.

May I hold strong to who I am as the world rushes around me and through me, in the world, but not of the world and ever mindful.

May I walk with balance and confidence among the misunderstanding ones, knowing my strength comes from within.

May I be a mirror to the struggling ones, empowering them to see their true Self, find their voice, walk their path, and shine their own bright beautiful glorious light, and in doing so, encourage others to embrace such freedoms.

Through this journey of whispers and shadows, pushes and pulls, in light, and in darkness, with compassion and grace, may I fully become as I was meant to be.

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The Scents of the Season

I want to bake something special, make it taste like love and Yule.  So, I’m beginning with building my own “extract” with raw honey, molasses, and mulling spices.

Specifically, I love this blend of spices:  Kerridwen’s Cauldron Mulling Spices

teapot

It’s been steeping in a tea pot with a little hot water for about an hour now, and the kitchen smells like warm winter comfort.  I’d share the measurements, but I didn’t take any, and everyone has their preferences.  Maybe it’s the theater girl in me, but I’m an improv baker.

But, what about you?  What brings your kitchen to life?

 

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The Earth Sings

The weather is starting to feel like Spring and brought to mind an old poem I once penned.

Catching Wonder

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Can you hear it?
The ancient hum of an old forest,
the sway of the harvest in the fields,
the gentle babble of a stream over smooth stones,
the choreography of fireflies on a summer night.

Can you hear it?
The rumble of the storm in the distance,
the quiet dance of falling snow,
the rhythm of ocean waves crescendo on the shore,
the symphony of the stars.

Creation sings
a vibrant expression of praise,
a melody of joy rising within,
a gracious glimpse of glory,
for those who would stop and listen.

Be still.
Can you hear it?

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Oh, crap.

I was contemplating what I could add to a compost pile to reduce the amount of kitchen waste that gets put in my trash: rotten things, broken things, discarded things, dead things, crap. Why spend time considering such possibilities? Compost makes great fertilizer, and fertilizer makes the biggest veggies, the sweetest fruit, the most amazing blooms; anything I could grow will grow better with fertilizer.

I was contemplating the crap storm that is my life. Disabled, I feel broken at times. No one discarded me, but I still feel discarded. I’m very much alive, but there are days I feel very dead. Yesterday, I threw a pity party, balloons and all; a little whine, a little cheese, it was something. And then God said to me, “fertilizer”. No, seriously, He did. Crap happens, but it makes great fertilizer.  Those things in my life that make me feel broken and discarded also make me grow. I’m stronger, brighter, bolder, maybe even wiser, I dare say. I’m learning to love better. And isn’t love the most amazing thing ever?!

Yes, I’m handicapped. But I’m learning to embrace it, and grow.

     “…I was given the gift of a handicap to keep me in constant touch with my limitations. Satan’s angel did his best to get me down; what he in fact did was push me to my knees. No danger then of walking around high and mighty! At first I didn’t think of it as a gift, and begged God to remove it. Three times I did that, and then he told me,

     My grace is enough; it’s all you need.

     My strength comes into its own in your weakness.

     Once I heard that, I was glad to let it happen. I quit focusing on the handicap and began appreciating the gift. It was a case of Christ’s strength moving in on my weakness. Now I take limitations in stride, and with good cheer, these limitations that cut me down to size—abuse, accidents, opposition, bad breaks. I just let Christ take over! And so the weaker I get, the stronger I become.”       ~ 2 Corinthians 12:7b-10 The Message

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God is good.

Waiting room: a place to sit and wait, and wait, and wait. We were at the doctor’s office for three hours . Most of that time spent waiting, waiting for a final diagnosis that has taken a year and three months. Tick tock, tick tock, and then the doctor said, Post Concussive Syndrome. The treatment? Time. More waiting.

God is good.

What does my day look like? Breakfast. Morning nap. Light chores, unless I’m too dizzy. Mid morning nap. Spend time with Gabrielle. Help her manage her daily migraines. Lunch. Afternoon snooze. Notice a pattern? My day is a series of cat naps, long naps, and resting with my eyes closed. Being so very dizzy wears me out.

God is good.

Am I delusional? No. I’m alive. January 14, 2014 my car hit a patch of black ice that sent me spinning off the road. The car rolled twice. Crunching metal. Bursting glass. And peace. I was acutely aware that God was with me. No sooner had the car landed upright and a young lady raced to me, “Are you OK? I’m calling 911.” Shaking so hard I could barely hold onto the phone I called my mother. With tears in her voice she prayed over me, asking God and His angels to watch over me, send me comfort, reassurance. Less than a minute later, the first responder showed up on the scene, a man I knew from my church. I’d lost my gloves. They had flown out window. He held my shaking hands with his warm gloves, stayed with me through the whole process. My own personal angel.

God is good.

The car was so badly mangled, the emergency crew had to implement the extractor. They kept starring at what was left of the car, shaking their heads in disbelief that I was alive. The roof had caved in, except for a small area directly over my head. I didn’t have a single broken bone. I had survived.

God is good.

I’ve been frustrated. My brain doesn’t like to concentrate anymore. (It took me a LOT of time to write this.) I’ve been depressed. Sat and cried. I’ve been angry. Shook my fist and asked why. I’ve hobbled through the stages of grief with a cane in my hand to keep me upright. I’ve been in the darkness. But I choose not to dwell in it. I have my life and a light to shine.

God is good.

So I’m waiting. Waiting to recover. Waiting on God and resting in His love and grace.

God is good.

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Saying No to My Comfort Zone

The words escaped my mouth before I had time to draw them back in. My heart quickened. Fear threatened an anxiety attack.

There are times when saying no to an opportunity is a good thing, healthy even. Then there are times when saying no means selling yourself short. And we were made to shine.

I like it here in my comfort zone. It feels familiar. It feels safe. But what does that accomplish? I don’t want to live my life ruled by fear and anxiety. I don’t want to spend my days over-thinking and never acting, day dreaming and gathering dust in the process. No.

It’s okay to be scared. It’s okay to feel out of my depth. The mountain may prove difficult to climb, but the lessons learned, the strength gained, the effort to persevere is worth the view from the top every time.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

“For God has not given us a spirit of fear and timidity, but of power, love, and self-discipline.” ~ 2 Timothy 1:7

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Summer Bloom

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I love waking up to sunshine and wildflowers.

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