H and I hold hands along the foot path, stopping every few feet to capture what is new to us. There is something beautiful about misted color and the wisdom of trees holding time in the hollows of their trunks. Vines twist upward, gnarl around her branches creating a holy haven for fowl in winter.

The unmanicured canopy of creation, it lays out like a pile of pixie sticks falling exquisitely random and untouched by human hands.

Canal boats drift steady, snoring sleepily between banks flush with green moss and upside down teacups hanging from stems like crooks of tiny folded umbrellas.



We’ll remember our twenty-third wedding anniversary in England. The quiet Sabbath stroll we took down the lane, next to a meadow of dandelions. Where we realized we’ve been on a grand adventure with God at the helm since we said, “I do”.

And it’s been a good ride. I’m leaning in. And waiting.


May you look back today and realize that God is and always has been with you, in the silence and grief, in the adrenaline rush of joy fulfilled, the promise of tomorrow, and in the hope of future dreams. He redeems the weeds and makes them beautiful.

Happy Sabbath Friends!

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