Always walking but never alone
Walking through woods on a snowy morning.
As you journey out away from the heart’s hearth of home and family …
… be mindful to notice the seemingly insignificant miracles around you. They may be small but they are mighty. They may be silent and still but they hold life and growth and strength that leans into the sun and always, always reaches upward toward the light.
Be aware of your companions … those who travel beside you, in front and behind you. Their paths lead in all directions but their footsteps fall just as softly, just as tentatively, just as heavily and wearily as yours. They may follow you for awhile, scamper off ahead or lag behind with the weight of burdens, the exhaustion of battle. We all come to the same end, but the conclusion is your choice. Share the journey and the load and … share the map you follow. Your traveling companions may have lost their sense of direction.
The path is hidden, covered in mystery, cloaked in an ever-changing wardrobe. No, you can’t see the forest for the trees. But that shouldn’t stop your forward motion. There’s more to see, more to do, more to offer.
When we are walking heavy and cloaked in the tiresome weight of the world, we need only pause and rest and stretch — upward. Warmth can find the darkest place if light is allowed to shine. It’s the only way to shed the remnants of our heavy shrouds.
And then new life begins. The flowing of goodness is apparent by day.
Share your gifts. Give for the benefit of others. Allow parts of yourself to be used — offer freely and without remorse. There’s joy in the giving, sweetness in the sacrifice, small miracles in every thing.
Tread with purpose, pause for precious moments and tender amazement. Shake the snow from limbs as you go walking by, but hold the branches for those who share the journey. And never, ever forget to turn your face to the light and follow the son.
I am a writer, blogger, wife and homeschooling mother of three. I love wide open spaces, cooking, gardening, decorating, travel, vintage treasures, sunshine on my shoulders, and bare feet.