I’ve often wondered and asked myself how I grew into a strong woman. I think it’s a combination of my parents’ high expectations, their unwavering support, my faith legacy, and the unique childhood adventures of my education and friendships.
I recently took a quilting class with one of my sisters. Our back and forth chatter while being shown a new technique set the tone for the morning. And oh, what a delightful morning it was!
Sometimes, spring arrives and we’re angry! We rage silently, “how dare flowers bloom when I’m experiencing _____!”
You fill in the blank and rest assured that you’re not alone.
I was reacquainted with the word biophillia while listening to a gardening podcast several weeks ago.
I was having a conversation with Jesus. Actually, it was more like I was begging with every ounce of my being to stay. I knew that this strong, gentle being standing before me was Jesus, because the power of our connection, of being one was so pure, sure, and true. I looked, really looked into his warm brown eyes and knew; I just unequivocally knew I was at heavens gate.
For me, the most prevalent and invasive emotion during one wave after another of the tumbling COVID variants is loneliness.