One Hundred Roses
Beauty doesn’t ask to be seen. It blooms anyway — wild and unhurried, like roses in the late-May sun. It doesn’t need our applause or attention. But still, it invites. In the curve of a stem, the fall of a petal, God whispers: I am here. And when we let that beauty seep in, we remember who we are. We remember we belong.
Exercise: Ten Thousand Miles
I’ve always preferred adventure to exercise — real movement with meaning. But lately, I’m realizing that staying strong isn’t about vanity; it’s about faithfulness. Peter Attia’s “Outlive” reframed health for me: not just living longer, but living better — being fully present to love and serve. Paul said, “Run in such a way as to get the prize.” For me, that prize is loving well, for as long as I can.
The Sacred Familiar
I sit by the window, alone but not lost, letting questions roam freely. The roses spill from cracks in the path — beauty too much to behold yet impossible to ignore. I think of the dreams and imaginings that once kept me company and wonder if they were glimpses of truths not yet seen. Even in uncertainty, I’m grounded. Even in fear, I long for what is beautifully familiar and fully his.
The Intimacy and Mystery of ‘The Secret Place’
The secret place with God forms identity, heals wounds and deepens intimacy. It’s where heartbreak becomes transformation — where rejection refines, not defines.