The Abiding Place
As I sat in the hush, I noticed movement: herons, everywhere. Elegant and strange, like brushstrokes come to life. The white ones came and went; but one blue heron remained, unmoving. Steady. Watchful.
When God Calls You to Plant Without a Harvest Date
Can you imagine if, instead of a neat little number, the back of a seed packet simply read: “TBD days to harvest”?
That’s what this season feels like. Not my flower season, but this life season.