I was awake early enough to hear the first birdsong of the day. I looked out the window in the moments between night and dawn, into a silver blue mist floating in the almost-darkness.

I am continuously amazed that green grass and flowers do grow after winter. I don’t know about anyone else, but each winter I would not be surprised if winter simply kept on going. It seems as if it will go on forever in the Upper Midwest. Maybe it is the Narnia stories that make me think of an endless winter, but each year, I marvel at what survives underneath the frozen ground.

Truthfully, I probably kill more plants than survive under my watch. But over the years, and over time, God has been teaching me through this cycle of winter and spring, death, dormancy, and growth.


when the time came
for the unfurling
for opening to the sun
did it’s goldenness wither and die
did the glow subside
and hide
I don’t live in a city of angels
no city of angels
down here
(there is no such thing)

did you ask
if i wanted to come?
i just appeared
And did it ask
if it wanted to be here, either?
(there is no such thing)

We don’t have a say when we are on earth, what we look like, where we are born Here we are, and meant to be here, now.

What is more beautiful than flowers and any of his creation? Hearts turned toward God. Beautiful souls we may encounter along the way. Beautiful you.

Each year, certain seeds must be cast aside. They are dead, ruined, no longer capable of blooming. Seeds have expiration dates; apparently, they don’t last forever. Sometimes, it isn’t clear if the seed is viable until it is planted, and then we must wait to see if anything will grow. It may not be the seed’s fault; perhaps it could grow, but then die from the lack of a proper environment or not enough water.

As long as we are alive, we have hope of growth.

I came across this quote about seeds and memory:

“[A] single image can split open the hard seed of the past and soon memory pours forth from every direction, sprouting its vines and flowers up around you till the old garden’s taken shape in all its fragrant glory”  (Source: Karr, Mary. The Art of Memoir. New York: Harper Collins, 2015. Print.)

I’m not the only one who uses analogies of seeds and plants. 🙂 Carr expresses it well in her book about writing memoir.

Thoughts and memories rise up like a flame, like a phoenix, like the sun, from what seems like dead ashes. I try to keep those seeds, those thoughts, write them down when possible, and try not to forget them. When I’m not writing, I’m thinking about writing, and so I keep a paper and pen with me always, to write down something I think about or hear that I may want to remember later.

From someone who writes, wants to keep writing, and is actively seeking writing, and is compelled to write: if this is you, and you are interested in doing the same, here is what I have to offer today: Nurture your soul, your writing (because you can’t separate yourself from your writing), dedicate time just for writing, and protect that time.