A bit of Sunday trail time with my favorite girl.
The morning greets with a rainbow. On the trail, a kingfisher swoops over the creek. Bees hive. Seeds push their way through the earth. Chicks grow and stretch wings. Jack adventures and we anticipate summer roaming.
The turkeys gobble, strut, and fight for mates. The sole pea hen remains in our local turkey flock. She doesn't fit, but she doesn't notice.
In the car we listen to Brene' Brown's, The Gifts of Imperfection. The kiddos get little snippets here and there. We talk of belonging and fitting in and how one idea very often opposes the other. Is not true beauty unique? Why do we so often want to fit in where we don't belong in the first place? Why is it so hard to find places of belonging that mean something? How do we daily work to help each other experience belonging within the embrace of our family?
There's been nary a moment to write lately. Moments arrive when I feel I've run dry, but I choose to believe I'm gathering strength and fruitfulness - like a seed tucked into good soil. There's a story calling. And it's time to make time. Time must be carved, seized, grasped and harnessed in order to live something worthy of cherishing. Time escapes so quickly, but is harnessed so readily. Reading Ezekiel and Elijah - men who got words. And so the dove calls, and so too, the story.
The place where your treasure is,
is the place you will most want to be....
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