I must be the most routined woman. Somehow that just amuses me.
Especially when Fall arrives, Sunday evenings nearly always end the same. Often just as they began.
Candles lit, dog fed, cozy red sofa. What will I do when someday this red lovely sofa is no longer?
Reflecting on the day, the week, what was said. What was left unsaid. What needs confessing. And what to hug tight.
This last week, these last few days …I took a risk.
It’s such a risk to show who we are. It feels risky. That strange vulnerability of saying the truth. Being the woman I am. Oddities and all.
But aren’t we all a bit of odd, some tender concoction of brave and scared?
We cross the threshold when we are brave enough to yank the shades off the windows. Yes, you get to look in. There I am, for all to see.
My world, my circle, met me with lovely. Love-filled lovely. And I am so grateful tonight. My tears met with tears. My heart met with gentle hugs. God shown in the arms of my friends.
I remember visiting an AA group for the first time, in support of someone I adore. And I was absolutely floored by what I saw and heard,
Church should really be like an AA meeting. AA meetings are incredibly, utterly transparent. Zero judgement, total truth, broken people looking for healing
Nothing held back. Seeing their experiences in the light of another’s being made well.
Incredible beauty, this transparency.
This safety of honesty.
May it be so in my life.