Our church had a wonderful photo op display for Mother’s Day this morning [above photo]. My two daughters posed with me (Cassie in the blue striped dress on my right, Savannah in the white and navy dress on my left). My son wasn’t there but if he were, he’d have towered over me, as he’s the tallest of the three. All three are taller than I am, but that’s not because they’re tall. They are average height. I’m just short, not much over five feet.
I hope you all enjoyed your Mother’s Day. We had beautiful weather here in Savannah, Georgia and ate lunch in a park. We saw a mama goose with her fuzzy tottering babies out for a swim and a stroll. It was a nice surprise to celebrate the day!
2023 Painting Collection Update: I’ve had trouble getting back to my painting projects after Easter. If you’ve been following this blog for a while, you’ll know that we moved last spring- almost exactly a year ago- and the property needed a lot of fixing up. It’s felt like a full time job at times, and I’ve been giving most of my energy to it. We want to get back to everyday life and are trying to finish these big jobs quickly so that we don’t feel unsettled, in progress, and unfinished (spiritually and literally) for too long. Being finished with something tangible helps us feel more settled spiritually. It’s been a long journey and we’re ready to live a “normal” life again, as close to normal as one can be. So, rather than putter at a slow pace, I’m driving myself hard to finish the work as fast as I can.
But, there’s really no such thing as being completely settled. Life is always in a state of change and will never be done, perfect, or safe from disruption until we reach those heavenly gates. And even then, it seems we may be given interesting work to do that keeps us joyfully alive on the other side.
It helps if I retrain my mind to see life’s journey as having rest stops and forks in the road, detours, and pleasant new paths – but not finished. We’re not in a race. We’re on a pilgrimage. That mindset helps when change seems too slow, when it suddenly leaps forward too abruptly, when things happen beyond my control, and when it feels as if I can never get to the finish line, where life just flows like a gentle stream. The gentle stream doesn’t happen at a finish line, but at points along the way, like today, when I was with my family at the park and we saw mama goose and her babies.
