A LOVE LETTER TO YOU
If you are here reading this, you are likely one of the golden hearts that ate apricots with me last year. I want to take a moment to thank you for being part of the golden pages of—The Apricot Memoirs.
Because of you, the pages of her sentiments went further than I could possibly have ever imagined.
My heart is grateful for you.
A love letter—for you.
The mirage of January gifts the new year—February.
Welcome sweet February, what is your dance? Before opening your door may we welcome habitudes, ones that allow us to sit still and ask—what is required of our hands (and heart).
Are you in the deep, fumbling for the light? adhere sweet friend, there’s much to be found in the hidden places.
Are your eyes facing north to the change written brightly on the sun?—run into the rays.
Is your heart hungry for truth & flowers?—eat such things for breakfast.
Wherever you are standing—stand.
I’m painting paintings but I want this to be more than painting paintings, I’m writing writings but I want this to be more than writing writings.
The things we do are only mere expressions of our souls purpose—the rhythm beneath it all.
Sweet friends, I’m learning many things—I’m learning about friendship & love & purpose & sacredness & culling & mulling & time. I’m learning about non-negotiables, heart ratios, my whys, my whens & my nows. I’m learning purpose remains the same even though expression can forever change.
I’m learning to let my yes be yes, and my no be no, from the ends of my braids to the tips of my toes.
I’m learning that what happens in the shadows of the moon is different to what happens amidst the celebratory festoons—both, equally important.
I’m learning that where I unravel—matters much, that love fixes everything, heart attitudes change worlds and forgiveness can sometimes take a little bit of time.
I’m learning that some things can’t be taught in the space of shorts cuts, but only on the frontline, the long way, in the mud, in the dark and when you are daring to be beautifully—brave.
I’m learning that what’s sewn in silence is important (& sacred) and that the “good news” is the only news I want to build my life on.
I’m learning that bravery isn’t a place of arrival but its showing up in places where fear lives—and doing things anyway. I’m learning that assumptions are boring whether you are making them or recieving them.
I’m learning that creativity is important and that painting art at night is sometimes better than a good night sleep. I’m learning too, that a good night sleep is a healing blanket.
Im learning that seasons change—and I do too.
I’m learning that love is fluid—sometimes it looks like a chase & other times it’s painfully—letting go.
I’m learning that those who choose to understand where you’ve been are those who are able to celebrate the colours of your victories—most. I want to learn where people have been—more.
I’m learning that motherhood is a gift & that my tribe of babes are a mystery to unravel, one I want to immerse myself in—everyday, forever.
I’m learning to kiss in the chaos and the power of the simple—love notes and warmness.
I’m learning more about what I value and the fruit that comes when we choose to nestle our feet in the soils of the house—The Creators house.
I’m learning that good paths are narrow—but lead to spacious and vibrant living.
I’m learning that I simply love how romantic our home feels at night and how promising it feels in the morning—and I like that.
I’m learning about freedom, the gift of laughter, simple disciplines, the dimensions of a perfect smoothie and the importance of sharing a TV series with my love.
I’m learning that I can only handle one cup of coffee a day and that the second cup is never as good anyways.
I’m learning the simple gesture of how powerful it is when we take time to greet others—well.
I’m learning when the eyes of my belly show me beguiling things—that’s discernment.
I’m learning more about what I like and that improvisation makes room for the best of masterpieces & the beauty of delegation makes new wine go further.
I’m learning that sometimes a stream of consciousness is best streamed up wards rather than outwards & that sometimes it’s prayer that should be our safe space to share.
I’m learning that sometimes words are in the wind and sometimes buried under rocks and that both require different means of discovery—one requiring stillness. And the other, Adventure.
I’m learning to let some battles be fought without words but fought in the quiet places behind closed doors—prayer.
I’m learning that words of the pen don’t often come cheap or easy—nor without quiet treks through lonely and shadowed terrains. They are often the residue of long midnight tears and morning mulls over caffeine.
I’m learning that every mountain top revelation requires a long steep walk—a walk to the top where we should allow ourselves to stop and breathe in the crisp air of our sun dancing victories. A place we can sing loud and bravely of all that has been fought. Dare our eyes glance behind if only for a moment to acknowledged the valleys that led us to our peaks of revelation. This place is our testimony—it deserves our time and celebrations.
I’m learning that when I acknowledge I am limited life becomes limitless, because my Creator has no bounds.
I’m learning to shield sound thinking and let flowers grow.
I’m learning that words from a true friend are worth waiting for and that largeness of soul looks like—A big mind,
A big heart!
A big spirit!
& Big dreams—
I’m learning that these things are a visionary’s outfit and I’ll forever choose to surround myself with people like this.
I’m learning that being married to amazement is real gratitude, and without God or gratitude you can’t experience joy—only happiness.
I’m learning to be more gracious and to stand in the shoes of others—humbly.
I’m learning that haste makes mistakes, so I’ll hurry up and slow down.
I’m learning that friendships founded in love outlast distance and time and life stage. If you are blessed to have even just one friend like this—you are rich, so rich.
I’m learning that we are all called to something radical and that God speaks to us all differently—this will be forever the most beautiful thing I’ve ever heard.
And most importantly… I’m learning that we can plan—but the Creator enables. That dreams hand made by the Creator of the universe wildly exceed the dreams we create ourselves.
Welcome sweet February, what is your dance? Before opening your door may we welcome habitudes, ones that allow us to sit still and ask—what is required of our hands (and heart) in the calendar year ahead.
May all things lovely fill your mind—as you hand over your hearts desires and sweet loving time to the one that is above time, outside of time, in time—& always on time.
With all my love and creativity—I’m so expectant to share this years creative wanderings with you…New things are in the wind—see you March 1st when something wonderful drops earth side.