These days have been filled with coastal prayers and dreams.
we’ve returned several times this summer- tumbling in the waves, while Mama ocean smoothes out the lines we’ve been holding.
And my lines are full and clustered; piles and rows, lined with poplars and well wishes.
the air alone confirms what we already knew-
everything will change.
it always does.
and all things grow.
as they must.
as we begin to move our lives into boxes for Friday’s ‘let’s sell everything we own and see how that pans out?’ idea, I’ve never been more certain that change requires a willing and wooden heart. For growth and abundance of life to be in my story, I have to do the work. I keep reminding myself of this as I fill the boxes. Do the work, Laura Em, and come on the other side.
It doesn’t feel like a garage sale.
It feels like a prayer for room and space.
ever since leaving the church to follow god, I find sometimes the leaps are riskier.
and I'm ok if that doesn't make sense to anyone.
i'll take the leap anyway.
Selling everything doesn’t hurt as much as the idea of being in this empty space. With Tyler leaving for 6-10 weeks, and forty days fasting, I’m not sure what to do with all this emptiness. I wasn’t expecting the idea of space and emptiness to strike up some fear.
so coastal dreaming seems to be the perfect place to burn my sage, incense carrying words and intentions from my heart to his, though this time of change.
god?
I might be f’up, impulsive, with a tendency to whine more than bless.
but I’ve got a sincere heart, wooden and all.
so.
lets start right here, tumbling in the waves.
smoothing out, standing up, lips full of prayer, hands full of sand and fear.
