Reading this from northern MN, this was the perfect reflection. The long dark bitter cold and windy days can get overwhelming, yet when I reframe them to see their purposes I can find peace, comfort and hope!
"Quiet. Let there be no distractions. It’s hard work to rest. And hope needs a lot of quiet to bloom and flourish. Tread quietly. Come springtime, we’ll make merry again. There’s still hope here.”
--- Perfect words. I lived in Southern California for 10 years and truly missed season and winter (which we have in Idaho--for sure) Your words captured that feeling so, so well. (Have you read Wintering by Katherine May...lovely book.)
I have such a northern hemisphere body. Which is no surprise given Caucasians/ Anglo Saxon folk were not supposed to live in Australia but rather move north from the mother cradle to settle in snow. My calves are built for potato farming or walking endlessly on the steppes of Russia. I do love swimming though but then, who doesn't want to float on Gods cradle? As an adopted child I'm fascinated by migration - my ancestry is a mystery. So I too look to nature changing - as I worked across Australia taking in its wet and dry seasons, it's Autumns in the south. Thank you for the chance today to think of landscapes, to spend some time cooling down from the 97%humidity outside. 💜
I had no idea, Janet, that your ancestry was unknown to you. Perhaps you’ve shared it but it didn’t register. I never knew my biological dad and that’s always made me feel like a question mark in both a good and a bad way.
Ancestry is a hard thing isn't it. I finally met my biological mother - who won't tell me about the father - or maybe the seed that spawned her misery? 😔 she had sort of blocked me from her mind - yet welcomed cautiously recently by sheer accident. I believe it wasWhen God deemed us ready. She was also abandoned/adopted/fostered and bears that trauma.
The question mark you talk about makes sense - as does what youve written here about your tight hold on perfection/control, especially as a daughter of a fragile mum.
The question mark can be as you noted, also good, as in liberating? For me, when I read in Ephesians that I adopted by God, I wept. That passage grounds me. Thank you for this week on hope. I'm in love with Anne Spencer and her house, and commend you for taking us bravely through hope. As most have said this week - hopeful feels hard right now. I feel like the hope you have written about and the people you shared hoped bravely, hoped in spite of their circumstances. Perhaps we too, if we have the privelige of secure housing and food have been caught up in the shallow end of hope - the capitalist end of hope so to speak. Perhaps you are helping us learn how to breathe prayerfully to rely on a hope that's been given freely and just asks us to open our hearts daily. Looking forward to this week's series. Peace🙏
Hope was the word I chose at the beginning of the year. Such a long, deep, dark journey this has been. And struggling now with hanging on to hope by my fingertips. So grateful for these words today because they have lifted. I am in the tip of Southern Illinois and we too get the freeze at times. But mainly it’s just gray. But here we are at the end of the first month and I am here, reading these gifted words. So, in my countdown and including the beauty of the gray, fifty days till spring 😊 Susan
Thank you for this...
Thank you for being here, friend
Reading this from northern MN, this was the perfect reflection. The long dark bitter cold and windy days can get overwhelming, yet when I reframe them to see their purposes I can find peace, comfort and hope!
🖤
"Quiet. Let there be no distractions. It’s hard work to rest. And hope needs a lot of quiet to bloom and flourish. Tread quietly. Come springtime, we’ll make merry again. There’s still hope here.”
--- Perfect words. I lived in Southern California for 10 years and truly missed season and winter (which we have in Idaho--for sure) Your words captured that feeling so, so well. (Have you read Wintering by Katherine May...lovely book.)
I have not read Wintering yet but I recently listened to her interview on On Being and was completely delighted by her.
I have such a northern hemisphere body. Which is no surprise given Caucasians/ Anglo Saxon folk were not supposed to live in Australia but rather move north from the mother cradle to settle in snow. My calves are built for potato farming or walking endlessly on the steppes of Russia. I do love swimming though but then, who doesn't want to float on Gods cradle? As an adopted child I'm fascinated by migration - my ancestry is a mystery. So I too look to nature changing - as I worked across Australia taking in its wet and dry seasons, it's Autumns in the south. Thank you for the chance today to think of landscapes, to spend some time cooling down from the 97%humidity outside. 💜
I had no idea, Janet, that your ancestry was unknown to you. Perhaps you’ve shared it but it didn’t register. I never knew my biological dad and that’s always made me feel like a question mark in both a good and a bad way.
Ancestry is a hard thing isn't it. I finally met my biological mother - who won't tell me about the father - or maybe the seed that spawned her misery? 😔 she had sort of blocked me from her mind - yet welcomed cautiously recently by sheer accident. I believe it wasWhen God deemed us ready. She was also abandoned/adopted/fostered and bears that trauma.
The question mark you talk about makes sense - as does what youve written here about your tight hold on perfection/control, especially as a daughter of a fragile mum.
The question mark can be as you noted, also good, as in liberating? For me, when I read in Ephesians that I adopted by God, I wept. That passage grounds me. Thank you for this week on hope. I'm in love with Anne Spencer and her house, and commend you for taking us bravely through hope. As most have said this week - hopeful feels hard right now. I feel like the hope you have written about and the people you shared hoped bravely, hoped in spite of their circumstances. Perhaps we too, if we have the privelige of secure housing and food have been caught up in the shallow end of hope - the capitalist end of hope so to speak. Perhaps you are helping us learn how to breathe prayerfully to rely on a hope that's been given freely and just asks us to open our hearts daily. Looking forward to this week's series. Peace🙏
🙏🏾
Hope was the word I chose at the beginning of the year. Such a long, deep, dark journey this has been. And struggling now with hanging on to hope by my fingertips. So grateful for these words today because they have lifted. I am in the tip of Southern Illinois and we too get the freeze at times. But mainly it’s just gray. But here we are at the end of the first month and I am here, reading these gifted words. So, in my countdown and including the beauty of the gray, fifty days till spring 😊 Susan
Susan, where are you in Illinois? It’d be nice if we could meet someday. You never know, maybe we could.
I am at the very tip of Southern Illinois. About 20 minutes from Kentucky. And that would be lovely 😊