three purple hearts

I found myself contemplating life this week. Coming to a place where I’ve worked hard to speak truth and find myself, there was very much a sense that I had more to do when I arrived. Having the opportunity to reflect on the doors that have opened and closed to get me here, this sculpture near Old Town Scottsdale gave me a practical place to sit in that reflection this morning. I sat with the uncomfortable reality that I still don’t want to consider all of the doors. There were things I thought had been dealt with that were knocking at the door from the past and things I was terrified to admit knocking at the door to the future. The doors to the past, present, and future all looked the same, which is a scary thought on its own. I had to trust that I was able to stand firmly in the present, acknowledge the past, and walk toward the future. I had to be able to see with clarity how I am impacted by triggers and choose to encounter the painful things as an avenue of healing. I had to lean

I attended Ash Wednesday mass today. That was a new experience. When I realized I would miss the service with my church family this week because I was out of town, I determined to find somewhere to gather with the body. And the time there, the whole experience... it was another new way to encounter the God of healing in the middle of a desert. Trusting the gathered body isn't always something I would choose to do alone. But intentionally seeking it out and choosing to sit quietly in my discomfort created space to meet God in a whole new way today. I came to quiet the voices today. Voices that tell me that the dust is evidence of needing more work. Divinity met me there, whispering sacred words of welcome. I sought out the stillness today. Stillness that is often hurried away in the rush of "normal" life. Productivity came along in the business of rest. I prayed for energy today. Energy to press on through endeavors that shout loudly of past failures. As I admitted exhaus

The revival at Asbury has been at the forefront of my mind these last few days. With such recent memories, my mind's eye can see the happenings in a way that makes them far more real than they could have been otherwise. When I close my eyes, my senses snap back to that place, and I am there again.  These last few days have been a journey of coming to know that the revival I have spoken prayers for in recent years is not the one happening across the country... Though I thought I was praying for something to happen in general, quiet time spent in reflection this afternoon has shown me that God has a far more specific plan than I could have ever dreamed.  Just as I couldn't have foreseen the impact of my time at the Abbey a few weeks ago, leaning into the hope of experiencing God's presence in my recliner, in a quiet house, on an ordinary Saturday was not where I thought he would make himself known. I wanted to drive to the revival, to feel the wind that people are speaking of

It's been a little over a week since I was at the Abbey. After brunch with my cousin, I went to Wilmore, Kentucky, to visit a friend at Asbury Theological Seminary. We walked around the campus there, then crossed over to the campus of Asbury University. She took me to the chapel and told me about the revival that happened in 1970 and to the alumni space sharing with me the incredible history of the schools. We talked about many things; past, present, and future.  Coming home was a long drive with a lot to think about.  I contemplated the journey into the woods, remembering how often I thought I wouldn't make it, how many times my hope faltered when the statue wasn't there... Over and over, I replayed the journey, thinking of how many times I was tempted to just give up.  In the last week, I have come to believe that I needed that journey through the woods to prepare for things I didn't even know were happening. Arriving home to a crisis was off-putting, and I just wante