You know the part of the story where the main character decides to ride or die? That’s the part I wrote about, again, today. We’re perpetually faced with decisions in divided roads.

My stomach has been unsettled for the past month. Some mix of stress, work, genetics and my foolish, lifelong fork war. The gift of writing is, every now then our words become a mirror, stating obvious realities we sometimes can’t do anything about, other than accept them. I didn’t realize what I really thought about things that happened a decade ago until I wrote about them today. Is that an introverted writer thing or a human thing? Probably both.

The parallels between my body and the book are likely fear of the unknown; everything I couldn’t have known then and don’t know now. Like, why am I doing all this? Will I ever have a good-belly day again? Will the knots in my gut, neck and head ever dissolve? Will the offering and acceptance ever come?

Past providential experience has answered in the affirmative time and again. Life goes on. Our goals and dreams, when paired with the force of action, produce outcomes; too hard, too soft, just right. The catch is, according to a friend of mine who’s touring Europe right now, even Rembrandt made mistakes. Mere mortals should therefore be equipped with a good sense of humor and temper our expectations accordingly.

And yet, we’re all born with this seed of vastly infinite possibility inside us. So, what’s up with things like laundry and occupations? Occupied. Meaning, busy with… Where is the unlocked door of actualization? I’m probably looking at it.

The good news? My very first niece was born nine years ago today and in that time life has wildly flourished. It’s amazing. She’s gone from a sleeping butter ball to a leggy mountain goat. I’m living in a house with more than one room, full of love, food, singing! and real furniture. And, it’s going on four years since I’ve needed an iron infusion. Amen for birth, rebirth and remission.

See. There’s the answer again. In case you too were wondering, trust the process.

“As I grow in spiritual understanding my life reflects my true nature. I know wholeness even when my body is experiencing illness. I see abundance, even when outer circumstances indicate lack. I embrace possibilities even when my limited awareness cannot yet see good. I live my human experience as the true spiritual being I am.” He created is his image-Genesis

-from my devotion this morning

Here’s to watching the garden grow. Happy Sunday. xo

ps: There’s more to these stories on Instagram @borninprovidence I’d leave a link but despite several years of blogging I’m still, technically challenged.

3 thoughts on “Parallel Process

  1. Writing things that we feel are buried, mourned, and healed remind us that they are not as buried, mourned, and healed as we thought. I wrote a while back about “Elsie” on the blog and it sent me into a spiral that was what seemed to be worse than actually living it. I only wrote a few posts about it, maybe 4 before I had to stop because I am more content with letting that stay where ever it was buried. Dredging it up was not good for me, and I’d prefer not to go back “there” I admire your strength, my friend, for pushing through.

    Liked by 1 person

    • Thanks Mags. I’ll have to look for those posts. I keep focusing on the lessons I would’ve wanted to read back then; paying it forward is the north on my writing compass. ❤️

      Liked by 1 person

  2. Not sure why I’m mentioning this to this post but remembered a while ago about you being kicked out of your house you only wearing a sundress and were homeless for about a month. How did you live? Where did you sleep? What did you eat? How did you survive?

    And look at you now.

    Liked by 1 person

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