Good morning, friend. I woke up to some thunder and lightning. I have always found comfort in sleeping during a storm, as the sound of raindrops tapping against the window draws me into a deep slumber. However, this particular storm rolled in around 5:30 AM, and the crack of thunder was loud enough to penetrate my dreams, an alarm that signaled it was indeed time to rise and greet the day. As I lay there for a moment, I could feel the energy in the air, electrifying yet soothing, and I thought about how storms can bring both chaos and renewal, stirring up the world outside my cozy blanket cocoon. Part of my Bible study this morning was on 2 Chronicles 5, which speaks of the majestic moment when the ark was brought to the temple, a significant act of worship and reverence. At the very end of verse 5, it says, “Then the temple of the Lord was filled with the cloud, and the priests could not perform their service because of the cloud, for the glory of the Lord filled the temple of God.” This imagery resonated within me, a reminder of the divine presence that can be as overwhelming as any storm, filling our lives with awe and a sense of purpose. As I pondered these thoughts, I realized the parallels between the storms above and the spiritual awakenings we experience, both powerful forces that prompt transformation.

Yesterday was a blessing. Do you remember when you were a child and you played outside all day soaking in the sun. And when you came home when it was night, you were so tired and content, your body pleasantly weary from all the adventures you had experienced. That was me yesterday. I walked with my friend for awhile, and then came home to tackle the task of weeding the back gardens. It was a lot of work, but I found solace in the rhythm of the task, a meditative quality in the repetition of pulling and clearing. I hadn’t weeded really since I had been back from camp, and the gardens were in desperate need of attention. I have hoed some areas, making a small dent in the overgrowth, but these particular beds required getting on my hands and knees, pulling the weeds out diligently, feeling the earth beneath my fingertips, the soft soil contrasting with the stubborn roots I had to uproot, and the satisfaction of restoring order as I cleared away the unwanted growth was immensely rewarding. The sun was shining on me as I worked, causing me to sweat like crazy, each droplet a testament to my effort and dedication. When I was finished, I took a moment to step back and admire the progress I had made; the garden looked rejuvenated. And when the evening came to an end, after all the other things I accomplished during the day, I was bone tired, but I was filled with a deep sense of fulfillment and happiness, grateful to have had the time to do what I wanted.

When my friend and I walk, we pass by a farm that seems to tell stories of its own. The fields are rented out now that the farmer has retired. I love seeing the beautiful flowers that the farmer’s wife has lovingly grown over the years. It used to be a lot more vibrant and colorful, but now she uses a walker, which makes it hard for her to get around as freely as she once did. On their property, right next to the road we walk, stands a sturdy apple tree. The apple tree has not been treated, so the apples are small and a few are worm-eaten, reflecting the natural, untamed beauty of the farm. As the seasons change, the apples are turning a lovely shade of red. Inspired by this delightful scene, I decided to paint some apples to put on note cards and tea towels.

I hope you have a great day filled with somethings you want to do and not required to do.

As always I am glad you’re here.

Best,

Amy