As the rains fall, don’t rush to name them, “blessing” or “curse.” Allow yourself to look on nourished fields and grace-green trees, but don’t forget the floods that have washed away homes and hopes.
It is good to cry when it rains, to feel at home with the sky’s weeping, to remember that you are not alone in whatever sorrows have filled your eyes.
But after it rains, dry your eyes. Sew for yourself a skirt the color of Texas wildflowers, and walk down a road you do not know. Ponder the names of the trees, and look out on new fields, wide-open spaces. Don’t be afraid.
Lovely.
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I’ve had thoughts percolating along these same lines, dear friend, but of course you put them so beautifully. And what lovely pictures to go with them, too! I think the thistle and the Mexican hats are my favorite, but it is such a joy to see the land so green.
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Pingback: Of Flood and Drought | Elisabeth G. Wolfe, PhD
Love this Bethany
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