Sanctuary

Listening, intentional listening.
Communion, sweet communion.
Solitude, quiet solitude.
Peace, deep peace.
Presence, comforting Presence.
Celebration, joyful celebration.
Truth, divine truth.
Love, steadfast love.




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A Farewell to Strength

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She donned Strength as a necessity.

Strength fit her well as if tailored for her very soul.

Strength hung like a heavy overcoat, covering up her true self.

Strength whispered from time to time,

“Be the strong one.”

“Don’t show weakness.”

 

She listened; obeyed.

Strength served her well as pain and trauma abounded in her young life.

Strength became a default mechanism, an automatic response.

Others admired her strength, not knowing the cost to her battered soul.

Strength protected her; she hid behind Strength.

The time has come; Strength must slip off her shoulders and fall to the ground.

Oh, there is a wrenching, a wrenching in her soul.

Whispered words heal,

“You don’t have to be the strong one anymore.”

 

 

 

10 on 10: Lazy Saturday

Each month, I take part in a 10 on 10 blog roll.  Photographers tell a story with ten photos taken all on one day posted on the tenth of the month. This month, I documented a lazy Saturday.

Rest and Be Thankful. ~William Wadsworth

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If you’d like to see some amazing photos, click on through each photographer. In fact, my friend Maite’s day is right here.

Thank you!

Offering Hope

Last week, I wrote about dashed dreams (click here if you missed it.) Thank you for the positive response. I just finished my first round with a physical therapist. The journey to get to physical therapy wasn’t encouraging; I arrived at the office with little or no hope. I didn’t know what to expect. I had many questions, the first being when can I run again? Unfortunately, the doctor couldn’t give me a definitive answer. Dang it!

But as I met with my physical therapist, Michael, he asked me about my injury. I told him my dream to run 1,000 miles in a year. He told me I was CRAZY and I knew right then, we’d be fast friends. But what Michael said next touched me to the core.

“Let’s get you running again.”

I nearly burst into tears right there. You see, Michael took it upon himself to offer me hope, THE FIRST MEDICAL PERSON IN SEVEN MONTHS TO DO SO! In that moment, hope grabbed me.

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Look at that smile! How can you not be hopeful working with a smile like that?

Michael’s statement impacted me deeply.  Why? Because when most of my hope was gone, someone came alongside and offered hope. It healed a place in me that felt worthless. Up ’til that point, I honestly felt so alone.  When he said that statement, I felt encouraged;  seen, not-so -alone. I felt maybe, just maybe, I’ll run again.

Michael’s statement also challenged me. How can I do this for others? It meant the world to me and I haven’t forgotten his kindness. Can I come alongside others in the same way? Lord, let me be an injection of hope for those in need.

Michael, if you are reading this, thank you for offering me hope. 

1,000 miles

This year, I had a dream to run 1,000 miles. Yup, 1,000 miles in 2016 because this hashtag is my motto: #headingto50feelingnifty. Somewhere along mile ninety-seven, I injured my left hip. I don’t even know what the heck I did to it. The injury sidelined me, ended my dream, and put me in a perpetual bad mood.

Thus began the long, difficult road to recovery. I’ve been on this journey for nearly seven months now; numerous doctors’ visits, an X-ray, an MRI, and finally, physical therapy.

When I ran, I felt God’s pleasure. When I ran, I felt strong, free, and fantastic. Running brought me life.  Running gave me a new appreciation for my body; appreciation for what my body can do, instead of what it looks like. You can imagine how I felt when I had to stop running. I felt as if I had lost an old friend.

What do you do when a dream doesn’t come true? I’m asking a real question because I usually throw tantrums, beat myself up and wallow in self-pity. Oh, and eat my feelings. All productive activities, right?

In most blogs, this is where the author Suzy-Sunshine’s the situation and tells how they’ve overcome. Hate to break it to ya, I’m not that author. Physically, this year kicked my butt (literally and figuratively.) I don’t know if I will be able to run again or ever accomplish 1,000 miles in a year.  I certainly don’t feel I’m #headingto50feelingnifty. More like #headingto50feelingshiftyminustheF.

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I have to accept the fact that I may not be able to run again. I’m not there by any means. That’s okay. It’s a long, emotional process when there is the death of a dream and I’m right in the middle of it.

Every month, I blog with a group of women all writing about the same topic, dream. Click here to read my dear friend Susan’s post on persistent dreaming. Thank you.