With eyes closed and hands gently clutching this wisp of summer’s joy, I wished a dream, a simple dream, and then slowly exhaled.  With that kiss of breath, I opened my eyes to watch the seeds scatter in a thousand different directions.  Each fluff carried with it the promise of more to come. 

I realize too many will see this little flower turned fuzz as nothing but a weed – an unwelcomed guest.  For me, right now, it is a simple reminder that dreams can and will be carried along in the breath of life.

I started this blogging journey a few years back and on a no good, very bad, unfortunate day my first blog was lost in the world of cyberspace.  Undaunted, I began again. 

Here in this spot I started over.  My words found a place to hide and my heart found a place to ponder.   In quiet wonder, life as it most often does shadowed the beauty of creation.  Seasons changed outside my window and inside my soul.

For awhile, a long while, my words stuttered as my heart struggled in a wintered season – the veritable dark night of the soul.  Life, loss, pain and fear heaped snowdrift high on my spirit. 

With each storm, I battled.   

With each struggle, I wrestled. 

After each fight, my hope limped and my words seemed lost forever.  A writer without words is a very empty place to be.  Weary and wounded, I struggled to find reason and purpose.  I found myself instead blanketed in Grace unexpected. 

It comes that way – unexpected – because too often I contend with distractions and war with things that are not mine to fight. 

Yet, now wrapped in the warmth of its promise, my faith pulsates back to life.  In its gentle healing, I realize that these battles were never mine to fight. 

The beauty I lost in the conflicts of life was the sweet joy of surrender.

Scarred I may be but in their ugly beauty is the testimony that battles may rage but the victory is already won.

The Giver of Grace gently holds my heart in hands that so freely give.  With a quiet breath He carries forth my dreams.

And this my friends, is where the dream continues.

I am ever thankful for new beginnings – for ugly beauty – words found and sweet surrender….

Joining in with a few of my favorite places to visit:

I speak them. 

            Always far too easily and often, far too carelessly they move across my lips.

I write them. 

            Habitually and abundantly too many of them make it on a page. 

I type them. 

            Inevitably in fear wondering if anyone truly wants to read them.

Words live no matter how carelessly, how abundantly, how fearfully they are spoken, written or typed.  They breathe beyond their moment and often far beyond intent.

It is my hope to bring words that are good – His, others or mine.   May they bring unexpected joy to the one who stops to read.

May the screen be my paper and may my heart beat with His.

Fill your paper with the breathings of your heart. ~William Wordsworth