Once, when I was little, I asked my dad what had happened to the forest as we drove through the Northwestern Ontario wilderness. The trees looked ugly and sad. Dead black things standing in silent testament to what once was.
Did you know that the black earth hides life? All we see is destruction, but the earth knows it as time to renew.
“The forest will grow back full of new life and food for the animals to eat.” Dad told me.
It can be the same with people. Don’t look at your burn out plots as lost. See them as places to grow new love.
Have you ever pulled a plant out of those flimsy plastic pots they start them in at greenhouses and garden departments? It always scares me when I do.
What if I damage the flower? What if I damage roots as I pull it from its home?
But the truth is, that little plant NEEDS to be pulled from the plastic, and planted in good earth. It won’t thrive confined like that, even surrounded by its siblings. That plastic tray was made to only be a safe starting place.
Don’t stay in your plastic pot. We are meant for so much more.
Campfires are one of my favorite things. As a little girl, I loved to char the end of a stick in the fire, and use it to write.
I didn’t realise the profound truth I was playing with. Often it’s out of destruction that we find the tools to create our greatest works of art. It comes with the accepting, the healing, and finally the drive to use what we have learned.
7 Where shall I go from your Spirit? Or where shall I flee from your presence? 8 If I ascend to heaven, you are there! If I make my bed in Sheol, you are there! 9 If I take the wings of the morning and dwell in the uttermost parts of the sea, 10 even there your hand shall lead me, and your right hand shall hold me. 11 If I say, “Surely the darkness shall cover me, and the light about me be night,” 12 even the darkness is not dark to you; the night is bright as the day, for darkness is as light with you. Psalm 139: 7-12 English Standard Version On BibleGateway.com
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Spring, a time many of us long for after a long dark winter. We grow again and unfurl our blooms… Just to have a frost crisp their edges.
Some of us weather it fine, some of us might carry blackened scars from unexpected transitions. Still, some of us might have to drop our first blooms. But don’t worry, you will grow new ones. Whispers of what once was, and promises of what will still be.