Bill and I experienced our first wildfire in November. We never dreamed it would be on our property.

I am trying to unlearn my need (and bad habit) to interrupt and ask too many questions. My tendency to teach and "fix" and give the "right"answer. It's exposing my fear of "What if God doesn't show up?"

I'm learning to "zip my lips" and wait.

What if I really believed he cares for me, is careful with me, that he will not let me be blown away if I live lightly? This downy feather responds to the breath of the wind. It floats. It rests. It doesn't cast stones, but even without much substance, it casts a big shadow.  

It's been more than 12 years since Mary Jo committed to a daily art project where she finds something in nature that inspires her. She says "the art of dailiness" has changed her so she is often in a state of creative noticing or deep play.

Bill reserved a hotel room for April 7 in Fort Smith, Arkansas almost a year ago. Eight hours away. Because it was on the edge of The Path of Totality.

I wondered if that was a famous rock band.

No. It’s the last full solar eclipse in the United States until 2045.

I learned a new word. 

Perseverate. 
 
To repeat something insistently or redundantly. To get stuck, to ruminate, to loop back over and over. And over.
 
As in, “My 91-year-old mother perseverated.” 
 
My mom passed away a year ago. But I’m still haunted by echoes of her three looping ruminations.

One of the best things about Instagram is waiting for a post from Ruth Leslie to see what she named her latest piece of art. It always makes me smile (and laugh out loud) and the art is always beautiful.

I met Ahmad Austin at an InSpero’s Bridge Builders meeting and was struck by his insight and patience as we discussed the deep racial wounds in our city. Then I started following his Instagram and loved his ability to “paint jazz.” His work is filled with joy and color and emotion and the faces he paints are alive with hope.

How will we emerge? That’s the question I’m asking myself and others in this “unprecedented” year. If I tune into the daily news or read the statistics, that question ripples through me with uncertainty and fear. If I lay the uncontrollable “we” down, and focus on me, I can answer. I want to emerge with some “more” in a year filled with “less.”

In the past month, we've attended too many funerals (masks and distancing making it even harder). For an 11-year-old boy who drowned in a creek. For a man who succumbed to suicide leaving a wife and three children. For a mother who died in her sleep five months pregnant. I’m flooded with “it-should-not-be-this-way” raging shouts in my head.

How can we allow Scripture to take hold of us and transform our hearts as well as our minds?

 Lectio Divina (sacred reading), an ancient discipline of the Church, offers a way to slow down and allow the Holy Spirit to lead our experience of Scripture.

It's my joy that one of my favorite artists, Amy Grimes, is also a friend and neighbor. To take a walk with her is to enter a more hopeful and magical world and see things differently.