I felt certain I’d been transported to none other than the mysterious and irresistible Secret Garden of children's books fantasy.

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I want to do other than just slow down. I want to savor. It’s one thing to stop what I’m doing and another thing entirely to actually immerse in a brief period of rest.

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Somewhere along the way, I’ve lost and found and lost and found God again. It’s the most unplanned, unsettling rhythm in my life.

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I think our spirits are made to soar, and it is a good and sacred thing to seek out the things that light up our eyes and lighten our step.

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The details of life are complex, like puzzle pieces you must turn round and round to get a good look at- to begin to understand.

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There are mixed messages in the sky, don't you know? We're made of (star)dust. We dream before we're old enough to know what it means to dream. We're asked to trust. 

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Not every idea is in easy reach. No guarantees. Just the faithfulness of showing up to do what I know I’m meant to in the very best way I know how.

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Are you a collector of things? Seashells? Stones? Words? Friends?

I'd venture to say most of us are collectors of something. Name your treasures. 

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There is nothing more exhausting than the fear of being abandoned by the Muse. “She’s a jealous lover,” some would say. Or “she’s temperamental.”

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