Do you long for something?
Do you dare to believe in a hope so extraordinary happening right where you are!
Daily loveliness growing in the place where you are.
After the death of my mother I returned to my dream, realising how my longing was deeply wrapped in a creative desire to share of the strength I had been given through its imagery.
In a way it was a dream that perpetuates another dream!
Yet equally a past inspiration that leads to new joy Experienced daily. I find it there waiting. I’m Resting there in the waiting. Not in the striving and the judgment but there every day I can find strength to rise, perhaps it’s deeper, more of a hope, a sunburst of words and wonder and finding out. its a daily brave to share and still be caught up in the learning.
I’m reading a book recommended by a friend called : when breathe becomes air.
In this book the author loved the journey of learning. He loved words. Me too!
He writes about his passion to express in words life’s meanings.
When breathe becomes air…. to understand my own direct experiences, I would have to translate them back into language.
Hemingway : acquiring rich experiences, then retreating to cogitate and write about them.
Tenacity: to keep pushing through . I shared some notes on Instagram regarding this @ rachelesther_
To keep pushing through –
to write those words
to not give up
to touch another with language that says, I know, let’s journey together. Dare to dream hand in hand .
I Go back to my dream. The desire for the unfolding of my words. Of the things God spoke into my heart .
Welcome to this journey dear sister , dear brother.
Should we hang around long enough I believe we all have a story. One that is to be shared -not, as my friend once said volumes stored into a cupboard but to share. Why? To encourage one another to rise and know God . Enabling one another to rise.
She is sometimes scared, she is sometimes lost, she is often disappointed. Yet she knows the hope that rises with each letter.
H o P E .
It is stronger than her weakness and more powerful than her own might within her.
It is spelt out in a yearning. It’s sung in a morning hymn, it’s delivered moment by moment when loss and sadness are delivered to her door.
Jesus gave her a gift that day she had her dream.
One that resonates the gift He gave to the world on that cross that day.
She holds it still. It’s in her heart.
Hear it shouted, whispered, cried, riSE my child.
She dreams even though she is older now. Never too old.
Come site along with her, hear a message for your soul.
In the bitterness and the dying and the aching and the failure and the sin that could crush her , judge her even themshe can rise .
Her beloved calls.
I’m am always with you , I never, absolutely never will ever ever leave you