“I think it’s a true thing that what got us here will be faithful to get us there. Wherever there is over the rise that we can’t quite see.” MD (how fun to quote yourself??)
Today I’m saying goodbye to this computer. She’s been my faithful companion for the last seven years, and this is the last post before she passes the torch on to the new one sitting in the box by my desk. It’s is safe to say that writing on this computer has often saved my life, and at the very least, has made me a better person because that’s what writing does for me. Writing is how I connect the dots. Writing is how I make sense of lived experience. Writing is one way to connect with fellow travelers on an individual but shared path. Simply put, I don’t know who or how I would be without writing. Writing has gotten me to the here that is my life, and will continue to be faithful to get me to the there there that is my life still to come.
Today started on the porch as it always does, with a hug, hot coffee, cold air, Gracie-the chocolate labradoodle, down jackets, wool beanies (#GoPanthers) fleece blankets, and a lit candle as we sit under the shadow of the mountain that stands watch over us whether we can see her or not. We read Richard Rohr as is our daily rhythm, listened to a birthday blessing on the Quiet Collection by Emily P. Freeman, and gave thanks for the life that is ours in all of its beautiful imperfections. Mornings on the porch have gotten us to the here that is our life, and will continue to be faithful to get us to the there that is our life still to come.
Today we talked about last night. About the hard conversation, the disappointment that our priority to hike the logging road was not honored due to other plans made. and the anger I felt inside about it all. About how when that anger showed up, I was able to recognize it as an inner protector that has served me in the past, but perhaps no longer needs to stand guard at the door of my heart. About how I made the choice to not stoke the mad, which made it possible to give voice to the sad, which made it possible for us to turn toward one another instead of away. About how we quietly ambled down our road in the dark on our nightly walk, side-by-side, arm-in-arm, each reflecting on both sides of the shared coin that is our life. Hard conversations, faithfully hiking the logging road, making new inner choices, and nightly walks have gotten us to the here that is our life, and will continue to be faithful to get us the there that is our life still to come.
Today, we are setting up the new-to-us weight bench that came from an old barn in our little valley. If we are to keep on keeping on, then keeping on keeping on is the only way. I found the weight bench on FB, for free of course—my spiritual gift—while my geologist is patiently and methodically cleaning and reassembling it—his spiritual gifts. A commitment to health, staying as strong, and using our individual gifts have gotten us to the here that is our life, and will continue to be faithful to get us to the there that is our life still to come.
Today we are all getting ready for the tomorrow that isn’t here yet, trusting that what got us to the here that is our life will be faithful to get us to the there that is our life still to come.
Amen. May it be so.
