In the seed, the genes whisper: stretch out for the light and seek the dark. And the tree seeks the light, it stretches out for the dark and the more darkness it finds, the more light it uncovers.
It has been a long year. Can I REALLY be well again? "Thank You for another day," I whisper each morning. The sheets on my bed feel good. The light coming through the window is a gift. How do I want to live out this day? I look at the African violet on my windowsill. If I don't water it, it will die. I see that my spirit is no different. I am beginning to listen a lot. The silence is my water.