Love

 I was listening to a sermon talking about when God was at His best. And this sermon is on repeat in my head. I need it imprinted on my heart. The greatest thing this pastor’s words did for me was give me initiative. Initiative to think about when I was at my best. 

Was I at my best when I took my first step?  Was I at my best when I fell down, and got back up, and tried it again?  Was I at my best when I climbed the mountain or swam in the sea in rough waters?  Was I at my best when I welcomed obstacles?  If you’re on the outside, the answer may be yes. Honestly, I may say yes, even if I know that’s not the answer. 

Was I at my best when I learned to harness my power?  When I learned at accept love?  I don’t know if that’s the correct answer. I don’t know the answer. It’s a question that will drive me. It’s a question that I want to explore. It scares me to answer it, but I look forward to the journey. Maybe the best of me is yet to be uncovered. My best isn’t what I done or who’ve met, but in what is to come. 

The best in me is to come because of who God is, and what He needs me to see. So He can give me what He desires for me. 

My own

 The mountains beckon me

Year round

In summer

My nephew

Climbs the trees

Skips rocks

Uses stumps

As an obstacle course

And finds flowers

To pick

Enjoying 

His antics

Makes me 

Feel like

A kid again

Where joy 

Is made

Not found

I see God 

In the laughs

Emitted

Committed 

To memory

For contentment

Is a commodity

Taken for granted

And not appreciated

As the gift

That is without 

Price

Recounting memories that bring peace and joy to restore my contentment in creation. My own. His. 

Trust

Obey

It starts

And ends 

There

Lover yourself and one another

R

Use it

 God, 

I’m uncomfortable. You know why. I’m pushing past the fear. The insecurity that has plagued me. Something my sister said to me made me mad, but it was the truth. I’ve let my attitude towards Cerebral Palsy govern my life, but You given me a talent many want, but don’t have. So while I do suffer with doubt that I can do it, deep down I know it’s a lie. I’m more than able to do this. I just won’t have instant success or gratification.   Learning to deal with that is where I’m at in the moment. I have to trust and use the gift.  Water it. Like you water me. 

Water me Lord

My life

Your Will

Your Way

Finally surrendering

My need

To know

The if and when

And trust

In the Name

That reigns

Supreme

Diary

 Dear Diary,

I haven’t visited you in awhile. You’ve collected dust bunnies upon dust bunnies. I decided I needed to return to my roots. I don’t know if I have any secrets left to keep. No crushes on boys I’d like to keep secret. Unless there is a Peyton Manning clone in my future. Got to love Southern boys who can throw a tight spiral. Anyhow, I digress. I’m here because I would like to reclaim my joy. It seems I loved the contentment it brought to my soul. 

Writing my deepest thoughts knowing you kept my innermost thoughts hidden. You had my back. To think a journal had such powers. What we believe as kids. I don’t know if I was gullible, but it was my guide. I could do doodle. I could color. You were my sounding board. Your pages were a lifeline until I lost the key to the lock. 

I still haven’t found that key. I wonder what secrets I wrote in there, but it gets me thinking. Thinking that maybe I should get another diary. Or just channel the mystery those pages could inspire. Now Lord, if it is Your Will speak to me like that diary did. If my problems could be solved by returning to the joys when. When I tore a page out of the note, and drew heart from corner to corner so happy with my creativity. 

Drawing hearts. What a thought. Draw my heart to be like Yours. Bring me joy that is hidden there. That I find when I’m on the edge. The precipice of despair. Or just needing a pick me up that doesn’t involve ice cream. 

Five

 Friday questions

Any 4th of July plans?

Any summer vacations?

Favorite healthy summer recipe?

Favorite restaurant near you?

Have the dreams you dreamed come true?

Stick

 A few of you have asked how the project is going. It’s going is all I can say. It’s harder than I can say. I feel the pressure to make it great. It’s a new genre for me. That is scary. So every day I write scared. Maybe if I keep doing it, it will become less scary. Right now I’m straddling two different themes in my writing, and it’s forcing me to stretch. So right now, this is writing looks like. Writing, then deleting. Repeat. Fighting my need for perfection. Fighting my own self-doubt. My writing journey resembles real life a little too succinctly. 

Writing is the one thing that can bring me joy, and yet have me let out ear-curdling screams. Again, this is mirroring my life right now. If you’re told life is now become easy and unicorn and rainbows, I need to visit you stat. My job title should read:  Regine:  the woman who complicated life while trying to simplify. I pull no punches. I’ve heard I need to give myself grace. It’s true, but so hard to do. I need a manual. A handbook on how to give myself what I so freely give to others. The Bible comes to mind. It always does. It seems like I have a hard time following instructions. 

God needs to spell it out like a child for me because if anyone can complicate God. Here I sit. And I’m writing this to you all. Because you’re my emotional support people. Giving tough love while being kind. So here is an update. I’m staring at a blank page praying something will stick. 

Treasure

 European soul

American heart

Latin flair

Caribbean joy

The joy

Of the world

Is mine

Because

The splendor

At the work

Of your hands

Is mine

To treasure

You give my mind

The privilege 

To explore

Places 

That capture 

My attention

Without leaving

The personal oasis

That is mine

Getting back

In the exercise 

And stretching groove

It feels so good

To move with freedom

Again

Captive

 Some days you act. Some days you stay still. Some days you just dance. Some days you stuck. It all has a season. A reason for the feeling. Some days you lose. The losses sting. Then God makes an appearance through a friend, and the loss has a purpose. Community and commiserating feels like a win. When you realize you’re not alone in the thoughts that rattle the brain at three AM. 

You count sheep. Praying for sleep to come as the eyes close. I’m taken back to the here and now as said friend sends a message reminding me of the rare gem I am. It’s what I needed to hear. Lift people up. The ones with the perfect life struggle too. We just mask our pain and plaster smiles on our faces. Nothing like some sunscreen, rich cream and some rouge to perpetuate the ruse. 

The truth is I want the truth. I don’t need my bottom kissed. I need a love that isn’t a bargaining chip for what can be given to you. The truth is setting the captive free.  The captive is me. 

Love yourself and one another. 

R

Summer

Favorite summer destination?

Favorite summer movie?

Favorite summer outfit?

Favorite summer food and drink?

Reminder

 Finding contentment

In the rat race

That shows

The glimmer and glitz

The show

That looks

So alluring

That chasing it

Seems the road

To take

Until you realize

The path taken

Led to more

Disappointment

Because the world

Stopped caring

About every move

Made

The truth is

Comparison

Never brought

Anything but heartache

Manifesting itself

Inhaling processed sugar

Faster than Olympic sprinters

Dreaming of a day

Snapping peas

With the next door neighbor

As she shares her 

Well earned wisdom

With this young 

Whippersnapper

Fame fades

Money 

A poor substitute 

For love

And youth

Goes faster

Than the dollar

Spent at 

The grocery store

Going out to smell

The lone red rose

As I meander 

Down the gravel drive

Losing myself

In the music

Of Sir Paul

Sunday lesson

 God,

Trading fantasy for reality today. Reality isn’t so bad today. I woke up to a cool house filled with love. A home that you’ve given me to enjoy and set roots. A place with no neighbors for that I don’t see for a mile.   I woke up to more food and drink in my kitchen. I woke up with choices. Isn’t that we all what in life. Savoring the simple. Savoring the blessing of listening to the slow beats of a slow Midland song. 

Thinking of what I want to do today. Listen to church, find a good movie or take myself to St. Barths in my dreams. Choices. Got to love them. I sure do. I’m finding that reality is surpassing my dreams these days. Or I’m just finding new appreciation for all my blessings. Never thought it would happen. Never say never. 

When you’re forced to slow your behind down, you have time to think, even if you don’t want it. And think I do. A little too much. Learning to be still is the biggest lesson I’m still coming to terms with every day.   I take my cup of coffee, sip it slowly and revel in the hope that You answer prayers. I wonder when I’ll be able to wait with contentment until what You wish to grant me. I know you’re smoothing out some rough edges right now. There are some character defects You aren’t happy with at the moment. I know it. I don’t need to be reminded or maybe I do. You know so I cede my will to Yours. Letting go is harder than wanting the last bite of ice cream in the bucket. 

Who knew I’d pick up some Blue Bell banana pudding ice cream hoping it’d taste like the real thing. I’ve been living in the South too long. Nothing beats homemade banana pudding made by the sweetest old ladies. Home is the place where slow is a benefit. Everyone knows my name. They ask how blogging is coming along, even if they don’t read it. I’m given grace. I’m given love. I’m given space to just be. Home is where the only expectation we have is the one we have of ourselves. Home is where the choice can be made to watch the grass grow, and pray for rain. Rain for the farmland. Rain for the animals to cool down. Rain to wash my sins away. Rain to dance in. Freedom in the rain. Freedom in the name. The name that saved my soul once. And keeps saving it daily. 

Joy is good sleep. No pain.  A cup of joe, and sweet Southern sunshine.  When contentment is sought and found in the everyday, everyday becomes the dream.  My younger self couldn’t have imagined how many dreams have become reality.  My current self can’t believe it.  I really am gobsmacked.  Jesus made it happen for a lowly girl like me.  Now as the woman I am, let my faith become that of a child.  The child’s faith has no bounds.  I now know my next mission.  God doesn’t change. I did. With God, everything has a lesson to be learned.  Never stop learning.  Or be willing to learn  

Love yourself and one another

R

Italian memory

 Dancing in the early morning before the century mark hits for heat. In a lime green chiffon number that covers the ankles as I sway unaware of all my problems. The weeds don’t bother me. My phone plays the sweetest melodies as Luke Bryan serenades me. I’m so proud to call this piece of dirt, mud and grass mine. It’s my blessing. One that I look out the window and marvel at everyday. God’s given me a place to call my own. A place that gives me more than I give it. I ride the UTV down to the pond and throw some food to the fishies and watch them scatter. 

I sit on the pier. Watching my dog jump in the water, and I pop open a can of pop, and proceed to drown my worries away. I now contemplate writing, but that can wait. Right now, I enjoy what I see. I see the dog swimming, and I join him. My body is weightless in water. I revel in the sensation. Letting silence be my companion. Wading in the water is my only job right now. No multitasking here. No wifi here either. The only rule is to have fun. It’s something I usually schedule. That’s a sad, yet honest truth. 

Climbing out of the water. Drying off. Laying the towel down to lay out and reapply some Supergoop. Taking a nap in the summer sun. Letting nature be my blanket. And what a blanket it is. Thank you Lord for my little slice of paradise. I ride back up to the house. I get some water, go to the shower and get lost in the hot spray. The shower is my indoor sanctuary. A little raspberry body wash, and I’m dreaming of a little gelato from my favorite little shop. A shop that reminds me of a February day in Northern Italy two decades ago. Taking myself down memory lane. And what a memory it is. As real now as it was then. 

Capri summering

 Right now, I’m dreaming of a vacation my body is not able to take. Take me to Capri or St.Paul de Vence. Take me away to the sea. The craggy cliffs. The azure waters. The dolce vita. The joie de vivre. The raison d’etre. Take me to the place my body unfurls like Garfield after a peaceful snooze. Let my muscles move to Mariah or Pitbull. Let my soul be revived by simple living in extraordinary places. 

Right now though I’d settle for the latest issue of Tatler, that I couldn’t find in Barnes and Noble. Living vicariously through others is my summer mission. Travel, see the world. We don’t appreciate it well anymore. Love your neighbor. Love yourself. Love anything worth being loved. 

Right now I’m grateful to be pain free. I’m just having to be patient. And that is something I struggle with daily. Humor me friends. Have a good day, and be joyful. 

Relief

 Please, I beg you, treasure your health. “Liquid gold” injection was a success, but it comes at a price. Imagine after your done, you lie still, the doctor gives you his gloved hand squeezing yours trying to give you human connection and reassurance. The pain is something I try not to think of, but later that day, it took all the energy I had to eat something, and take a few steps to bed. I don’t need you to feel bad for me. I must endure pain to find relief for the next few months. 

For the next week, I will be moving slowly. No exercise for me. I just want you to enjoy life. Enjoy what I can’t. Relish the fact that needles aren’t needed to bring joy to the body. To use the potty without pain. If your muscles can stretch and not lock, you are blessed. If you can move without strain, do it for me. 

Listening to my muscles on the machine, it sounded like a freight train. It’s not a sound anyone wants to hear. Nobody had to ask about the degrees of my pain. My mouth would lie, the machine wouldn’t. Doctor said why won’t you tell me when you have pain. I said I never have. I never will. I’m used to pain. I know you can provide answers. 

I’m not fighting what I already know. I just have to trust what I don’t understand. The questions don’t serve me. The answers may not either. Right now, I’m headed to the couch to rest. 

Love you all. 

Love yourself and one another. 

Regine

Memories

 While I rest, I remember ferry rides and gelato. Flowers and the sea. Wind whipping my hair in the most delicious way. Sand and turquoise waters. Blending in with the locals. Getting a lobster roll. Savoring every bite. Where am I friends?

New England 

Return to me

Dear friend

As if 

I’ve never

Left you

My heart

Didn’t get 

The message

Hi

 Procedure day is done. I have thoughts. I will share at some point. 

Truth

 Taking the punches. Taking the blows. For the betterment of others. Selfless love. What we get when we give so freely of ourselves. Love conquers the fear. Love conquers doubt. Love covers the insecurity that pervades the soul. When you learn that struggle breeds clarity and hope. Climbing the rungs of your questions is the road to understanding the you within. 

When people get the best version of you, the rewards are endless and overflowing. The best version of you may be messy and unkempt, but it’s the truth. Not a lie that is carefully curated to impress. Take the win the truth provides. 

You in truth

Is in harmony

For their

Is nothing 

Left to hide

Grace in failure

 This body. The one I’m in. The one I hated for years, walked two miles yesterday in miserable heat. I’m learning to work with the body I’m in. I walk through pain and discomfort. My body will always know pain and discomfort. I accept what I cannot change. I can’t change Cerebral Palsy. I can’t change how age changes how this condition affects me. I’m learning to accept exhaustion. I’m learning to welcome sleep. Everything I said I would never do, I now do without apology. 

I walk in the rain. Dance in the streets. Sing in the shower. Yes to all three. Walking downtown yesterday with a friend, I realized I’m an old dog sometimes. Sometimes you can’t teach me new tricks. Sometimes you can. Depends on the day. This truth no longer hurts my feelings. Too old to give a darn. Honesty really is the best policy. The head is finally understanding the assignment. 

Stop wanting the world to understand and validate you. Most times won’t happen. I’m not upset by it. It’s a reality I wanted for most of my life.  That is until found this desire to be futile. My best friend told me she will never understand my pain. My grief. She is only here to empathize. If my best friend can’t understand, how am I to expect the world to do it. 

I got a note today that is helping me to use what is at my fingertips to answer my own questions. God, thank you. You know why. And because you know why, I can rest, not knowing my next moves. I don’t know the meaning of life. I don’t know if what I do makes a difference. Resonates. I don’t know much about much. I just trust that what I do, and who I am enough. Enough for you. Enough for me. Enough for God. 

I’m having to trust in this season, as I embark on a new journey. A new mission. A new direction. That when I don’t understand. I empathize. I give myself the grace to fail and fail again until success is mine. That is my hope for you as well. 

Yesterday

 A little sorbetto

A mocktail

A pizza slice

Some people watching

Friendly chatter

Made my day

Yesterday

Story

 The greatest gift

I’ve ever been given

Is your love

As I discover

Who I am

Again

Lord

Restore

My faith

In the ability

You’ve given me

To tell the story

Inside of me

Sunday blessings

 The mind is returning to the sea watching the sun rise over the horizon as I enjoy its glory before the heat of the day makes it untenable. Walking in the soft sand relishing the feel of serenity. The only sounds are waves as they ebb and flow. Watching Mother Nature is fascinating, calming and rejuvenating. If I want simplicity and calm, I must seek it. Anything worth having is worth the work. That is the playbook. 

Find the joy

Guard it

Then give

It away

Spread like wildfire

The goodness

Of life

That I find

In Your eyes

The sea 

At Folly

The mountains

In Saluda

The peace

Of my home

Is my gratitude 

Today

Birds

 Sitting under

The fan

In a cozy

Summer dress

Listening to 

The birds

As I work

Me

 The feather boa, the beaded necklace and the glass slipper. Playing pretend princess with the tiara of flowers and rhinestones perfecting the wave. Realizing the daydreams of yesteryear are long gone. Reality slaps you in the face as you pull a muscle getting into the car. The pain radiates, but then I think I’m grateful for the pain ironically. I go back in time to the days of Capri-Sun and Fruit Roll-Ups. I didn’t worry about high fructose corn syrup and refined sugars. Now I watch the scale intently ingesting brócoli and kale tricking myself into believing it’s ice cream. 

Inflation is talking about what is a reasonable price for just about anything from remember ninety-three cent a gallon gas or a five dollar combo meal. It’s now three plus dollars a gallon and I haven’t even eaten a combo meal in years to know the price. All I want is a Big Mac, yet I go home and make a kale salad instead. I remember spritzing myself with perfume and now they just sit out on display collecting dust. 

We don’t read the classics, learn Latin or write letters. I had a lesson on how AI works yesterday, and I was at a loss. We don’t do anything ourselves, there’s a program to do it for us. As much as I struggle to come up with what to say, I’m here to say, what I write is all me. 

I’m returning to the day of playing with play doh, drinking tea from a plastic teacup and singing off key. I need to return to the joy of childhood. 

Blessing

 Yesterday’s hydrangeas

Brought me back

To a Nantucket day

That hasn’t left

My soul yet

I pray it never does

Travel

Domestic

Or international

Invigorates the senses

Physically

And mentally 

Leaves me

Joyful and grateful

I’m so happy

To count the blessing

Home

 Home

Where

I can just be

What a privilege

What or where is home for you>

Adventure

 On an adventure today. 

What is making you smile?

Pearson Falls

 Hiking up Pearson Falls, I realized some truths I’d avoided. I’m stronger than I’d ever thought. I had to go slower than a turtle at times. It was a very frustrating truth to accept. Accepting what I’ve always known is still hard for me. But as I took in nature, I felt that everyone was on a level playing field. And for that I’m grateful. Even if it’s considered an easy trail for most people, I just had to be happy that I completed the task. 

Looking up at the waterfall, peace was present in my soul. I couldn’t believe at forty that my body could still do it. It did and can. After the hike was complete, I’ve never felt more joy. Joy in my ability to get out of my own head. Joy in how much I’m loved. Joy in the ability to not downplay the accomplishment. 

Dear friends:  lead in love, rejoice in thankfulness, be joyful and be small in the trees

Words

 Some days

Stillness means

The words

Don’t flow

I await 

Their arrival

Albeit impatiently

Small town America

 Back from a little time away to recharge the batteries. I don’t do it enough. I’m grateful for any time in a new place to help me appreciate how much home means to me. Home. It’s the place where I’m in no rush. No need to schedule. No need to alter who I am. I didn’t know what a privilege that was. I now know. My soul rejoices. This trip, I let the quiet mountain town transport me to a simpler time. Where the cell phone had no signal and wi-fi was spotty. It forced me to catalog my surroundings with absolute focus and attention to detail. It meant getting caught in a rainstorm, and watching kids play in the rain. It was marveling at the rain covering the mountain in what looked like a cloudy fog. It was eating a juicy burger, and not worrying about making a mess. In this life we want the neat and pretty. 

Life is never neat and pretty. If it is for you, I need some tips. Sign me up for the course. I’m learning I can be content in my own company. I always desired the company of others to satiate my desire for community, but when it’s not available, I can thrive. I’m finding whatever state I’m in provides the setting for a story. A story I get the chance to tell. I’m always learning even when it’s not what I seek. It’s amazing that one hour from home is a place that almost feels like home. My soul relaxes. My mind rests. My body finds regulation. I don’t know whether to share this place. Be selfish. Or share this earthly paradise that brings true peace without knowing it. 

Then I think maybe I need to share the place that brings me such joy. The place when you sit on Main Street, buy an ice cream and watch the traffic go by. Small town America at it’s finest. 

Should I name the town?

Mountains

 The mountain as the backdrop never gets old. The freedom to free fall into natural bliss is the best gift. Taking a hike to the waterfall is an endless rush of anticipation. The sights and sounds that accompanies me is the best massage for a weakened state seeking repairs. Thinking of this scene is enough to let me sleep peacefully, and drift off into dreamland. 

As I awaken to a breakfast of grits, bacon and eggs and pastries, I’m reminded to be grateful for every sweet or savory bite. I don’t what to eat first. I just pile on the plate. Getting a cup of coffee, water and orange juice, I take seat on the deck inhaling the fresh air scent that is infused with a hint of Fraser firs. 

Taking a bite out the pop tart, Nutella lavishes my tongue with gooey hazelnut. I find a banana nearby to mix the flavors. I let out a pleasurable moan. I’m in food ecstasy. Breakfast is a feast for the senses. One I fully intend to enjoy. 

The next decision is what to do today. 

Charade

 Charade

Or reality

Find me

In the place

Where reality 

Exceeds the fantasy 

In

 Fog clouds over the mountain as I breathe in and out  Nature brings me back every time.  I wonder when the natural world will cease to amaze me. Now the rain joins in and I’m in a blissful trance. The Earth just leaves me in a place where I’m happy and peaceful.  The quiet drops lull me into meditation where I’m one with my surroundings  it’s one  I’m happy to be in  

Fantasy

 My greatest win is admitting imperfection. To let you see me fail. To see me succeed. Perservering and conquering the mountain that is my mind. In nature, I’m finding creation to be the only measuring stick I choose to have. The sweat that coats every part is wholly divine. My body is in harmony. I feel so small. Never more alive. Sought the world to soothe me. It doesn’t work. The grandiosity of my surroundings is enough to bring me to my knees even as I’m rooted. 

The only thing I’ve ever needed was the one thing I took for granted. Time. Riding with an eight year listening to the pop star du jour was something I won’t forget. The music choice was not my favorite. It made her happy. I leaned into her happiness, it was enough to give me some of my own. 

Learning to let it be. Smile and be grateful for what is yours. Your reality may be someone’s fantasy. 

Birthday

 Joy

Is a birthday 

I love

To celebrate 

Happy birthday 

Mom

Ice cold

 Taking  a walk down memory lane dancing to some Sam Hunt. Finding the groove with two left feet is still fun. Activating the joy within me. Twirling through the fields of dandelions. Singing at the top of my lungs. Letting fear and anxiety go with every move. Letting the sights and sounds be my mate. Putting on some old muddy boots. Reveling in the clay mask I’ve made. The winds of time stand still for no one, but in that moment, it feels infinite. Nature and I are one in tranquility. I’m grounded to the earth. Never more sure of who I am. In this moment, I search for the mustard seed. The anger in me dissipates as I lose myself in Your embrace. The bear hugs, the sweetest kisses and when you see me, you stare in amazement. That You made me. That I’ve chosen You. That I’m nothing without you. That I’m lost without you. I’m wholly dependent on You. 

I’ve come to the end of self. That’s why I amble around the local Tractor Supply. I look to buy a water through to sit and soak in. I need to be one with my pets. Shivering in the cold brings a clarity I couldn’t locate. I submerge myself in the ice and sigh. Peace is a muddy boot, a sports bra and Soffe short covered in ice cubes from the freezer and cold water from a hose. 

I dream of Chanel and a strand of pearls on a yacht in the Mediterranean, and yet the cows and green grass in my own backyard is what brings me back to life. What does that say. The dreams fuel me to continue, but my reality centers me. 

Ping pong

 Ping pong, ding dong. My own little reverie taking place on the table. Andrew is goading me into pretending I’m a professional. A swing and a miss. A thud as the body hits the table with force. His eleven year old self is laughing uproariously with glee at my lack of skill. I go round the table picking sides to better my odds. Nothing does the trick. The little rascal still laughs, falling to the floor in hysterics. My foibles must be something to behold. 

I give it back and up the stakes. Can he do better?  I know this isn’t a bet to make or take. I do it anyway. Anything to shut him up. Funny thing is, the kid has some skill or maybe just the will to prove me wrong. Those prepubescent preteens find any need for competition and I gave him the opportunity for showmanship. 

The kid is now in the zone ready to pretend to be the professional. Paddle to ball, eye to ball ready for action. He smokes an ace. I’m ready to shake my head as it is done over an over again. Blows on his fingers, and goes at it again. I tell him to take it easy on me as the wise elder. He retorts: Not so wise now, really. Got to give it to the cocky kid. He’s right. I hate when I’m wrong. Stinks being shown how it’s done. 

I’m stupid enough not to concede defeat. Must be a glutton for punishment. I attempt another go at it. I now make contact with the ball, but it slams into the net. Throwing rackets, er paddles and screaming “you can’t be serious” come to mind. Just a game. Muttering to self. Toweling off. Blaming sweaty palms for lackluster play is the next excuse. Yet I forget my antics are being mimicked by said chap smirking in bemusement. 

Dang!  Really this is what my embarrassment looks like. Oh my. And now the old lady just chalks it up and laughs at self remembering that life is made up of moments we would like to forget, but never do. I admit defeat. Admitting I’m no McEnroe. Then the boy says who is that?  Now I laugh hysterically. 

Oh wow. Now I know I’m old. Oh well. C’est la vie. 

View

 Good morning from a rainy South Carolina where the soul wakes up to worship. The grass grows, the cows sing as I sit with steaming coffee. The chickens peck insects and scurry for scraps. My little composters. The old man that is my dog lazily comes to my lap. I rub behind his ears as he purrs almost cat-like reveling in the attention. I look out at my own personal piece of earthly heaven, and I wonder how I could be so lucky. 

Blessed that my pasture looks like my own Augusta National. I feel like finding a driver and a golf ball. Let my backyard be a playground for frivolity. Dreams of a Woods-like follow through are in my mind, as swings are made, but not successful. Clearing the barbed wire now becomes my aim. Thirty minutes later, I amble along picking up the balls like the rocks of my childhood. The bucket these days is much lighter, but no more the better. The rocks buried in dry earth so difficult to extricate then provide motivation to seek joy in rolling in hay bales recalling the days of riding, the mustang, Jughead. 

Coming up for lunch is a reprieve for my aching muscles. Recreating the whims of a teenager leaves 40 year old bones yelling for an ice bath. A nice ham sandwich and Sun Chips with some unsweetened tea is just what I need. I consider an audiobook to keep me company, but wondering if silence is the answer. The only soundtrack is chewing and swallowing. I wonder if this is what peace feels like. No need for noise to be my only companion. 

In the farmland that is mine, I’m finding completion. Completion in contentment. I still dream of the South of France in the lavender fields, the Parisian je ne sais quoi, or the seascapes of Capri, but right now my view is a familiar one, but beautiful nonetheless. 

Describe your current view. 

Jesus

 Today I realize a few things. 

God doesn’t forget the dreams of the thirteen year old you. At forty, I’m seeing that. 

This project will gut me. I will be broken down and built back up. Pray for courage. Going to need it more than I can say. 

Please grant me grace as I proceed. 

What needs doing

Isn’t always easy

But easy

Never brought

Peace

Those five letters

The word

Has eluded me

The son

Will restore

Jesus