“Go now and denounce it for its wickedness stares me in the face!” Jonah 1:1-2
Have you ever been asked to do something by that still quiet voice inside of you? Maybe it was to ask forgiveness of someone. Maybe it was to go visit someone you’d slighted and been avoiding. Or maybe it was to do a job that you’d neglected.
My heart is broken with the grief in the loss of my sister, Christine, to lung cancer. So, I come to my back porch for solace.
This is my choice. What am I going to let define me: trials, accolades, sickness, or maybe societal roles?
I write a lot about the garden being my therapy and how strolling its paths can lift my spirit, or napping on the back porch daybed restores my body. However, the best gift my garden gives is the joy of sharing its bounty.
For me, walking is no longer an automatic, mindless function. I struggle walking, wobbling with each step, anticipating the predictable pain of successive strides.
Quite often at this time of year, when the days are starting to get shorter, but the temperature is still sizzling in the 90s at sundown, the last thing I want to do is cook supper.
My home blew up! There was a horrific explosion in Beirut that decimated a whole section of the city leaving people even more homeless, jobless, and hopeless than they were before the blast.
I laughed out loud the other day when I saw a vegetarian restaurant promotion on the food network channel featuring roasted cauliflower
I love to read. Stories fascinate me. When words are juxtaposed just right within a narrative, they jump out at me and I get the “goosies!” I have spiral notebooks full of exquisite phrases and sentences gleaned from reading. These words are powerful. They make me stop and think, mull over a new idea, soak in a relatable epiphany, and absorb a fresh perspective on a familiar concept.
I agree! It’s way too hot to do anything in the garden in August. That’s why I named this segment “Chores” instead of “Checklist.” Persevere and go out early in the morning to beat the heat.