Wilderness Writing

  There in the quiet cadence of the rustling leaves,  I find myself stop and take a breath.  This pouring out is a continual thing.  A life of ministry and motherhood,  draws from it constantly. Even when the cup feels nearer to being empty rather than one that overflows.  I will serve, though it’s not always from a place ready to release  or to generously let go of.  Yet, when I carve out moments in the middle, or break from the daily flow.  When I make space to quiet my own self in the busyness of life.  When I respond to the sweet beckoning of the Lord.  I hear a whisper in its guiding,  “Above all else, guard your heart, for it is the wellspring of life.” (Proverbs 4:23) When I neglect that part of me, to sit, to reflect and to receive -  I become so weary. I wonder why I don’t have the energy  or joy to serve those before me.  Instead of leaning heavy in the doing,  I need to lean heavy into Him. My heart tugs at me with its own desperate need for filling.  My heart longs for the

The raindrops begin to gently ting on the metal roof hanging over our porch. My kids snuggle up in their beds, pulling up their cozy blankets up high to their chests. Windows open, allowing the cool breeze and nature’s drumming lullaby to lull them to sleep.  The steady pattering of this night rain is the perfect backdrop as another day draws to an end. A candle is lit. It’s the crackling kind. It holds a slight reminder of the dry season bush burnings, which were happening only a few short weeks ago.  Now, the flame - its warmth and glow are a welcomed sight, especially contained within its glass jar. Though still unfinished and with its solar power system waining, limited lighting and with a flame flickering, this house is feeling quite homey tonight.  The kettle is on and my favorite yellow mug is eagerly awaiting its fill of my piping hot, nightly tea. Water boiling to the rhythm of the rains, until the kettle breaks the cadence with its whistling. Tonight a sweet and spicy mixture