Daily Word

I had been planning to do it for months. I was going to take a day or two and go through the bookshelves, the closets, the pantry and freezer, and every corner of the house that had grown thick with items that had accumulated over the past year.

There is no time in Spirit. I learned that lesson the summer we lost our apple tree during a thunderstorm. High winds uprooted our big, beautiful tree, heavy with fruit. As sad as this was, the timing made it even worse.

A few weeks ago, there was a day in Missouri so splendid it was almost impossible to stay inside. The weather was warm, the skies clear, and the feeling of burgeoning life heralding the arrival of spring—even before the trees sprouted their leaves—was palpable.

It was easy in that moment to think that the cold, barren winter had passed and spring was here to stay. It wasn’t to be. Not even a week later, the temperatures dropped precipitously, and winter roared back with a sudden snowstorm.

New Thought author Emmet Fox wrote, “What you think upon grows. Whatever you allow to occupy your mind you magnify in your own life.” I’m grateful to have learned this lesson early in my life.

There’s a good chance I’ll be on a plane as you’re reading this. My husband and I are on our way to enjoy a vacation, a real vacation with hotels, nice restaurants, and fun things to do, outdoors and in.

The beginning of Lent is the perfect time for me to embark on a trip, the perfect time for me to release the limitation and smallness of the last two years.

On most mornings, as the sun rises over Tampa Bay, Florida, there is usually one man who is there to greet the new day.

He is alone when he takes his seat, always on the same park bench. But before long he is joined by others, strangers who seek out his reassuring company and empathetic ear.

Each blade of grass bedecked with sparkling rain drops,
each glistening strand with ropes and garlands hung.
I knelt in awe to view the morning splendor;
the humble lawn bejeweled with dew and sun.

A million liquid crystals caught the morning sunlight;
A myriad, a multitude, a vast uncounted magnitude of sums.
The velvet lawn displayed her glowing emeralds
And called to me as if a bell had rung.

I’m always up for a good love story. I love them in songs, poems, books, and especially in movies. No matter how schmaltzy, I fall for them every time. Recently though, I got to revisit one of the best parts of my favorite love story—my own.