Winter is shrugging its cold shoulders Each day a trial in change The flowery weeds are creeping up Announcing spring And you marvel yet again How a weed can have such beauty You have thought yourself much like one too Persistent, resilient, and wildly growing Where fertile grasses can not Go The wildflowers are soon to come The ones you pass by on interstate highways Coloring your route with blues and reds And people pulling...
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“The place to which God calls you is the place where your deep gladness and the world’s deep hunger meet.” Frederick Buechner The fireplace is crackling on yet another snow-y day in Texas. The Eastern Bluebirds have been flocking to our feeders with bright coats contrasting against the white and dull of winter. They like to sit on the rim of our trampoline and dive-bomb delicacies among our dormant...
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Subscribe and receive my free resource, “Breaking Up with Fear,” plus a bonus toolkit of Facebook tips. I have dreamed of words and of art. I even dabbled in painting, long ago. I wrote poetry and hid behind metaphors. However, I imagined these as hobbies irrelevant for adulthood, at least for mine. Art of any kind was not considered a career, a talent maybe, but not something to pour your whole life...
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