Let me tell you what I love about you… It’s that handwoven life of yours.
I imagine you walking through the forest wrapped in a patchwork quilt, like the one your great grandmother sewed by hand through stories. The one that hangs over your mother’s couch like an altar to the ancestors. That quilt holds prayers, and tears, and love so big it could cover the stars.
I imagine your body wrapped in it, walking through the wilderness. You’ve netted in strands of your out of necessity. Old patches have worn away from too much love, too much life. You’ve sweetly woven in stories, prayers, tears, love of your own. This is your story now. It covers you.
Your loose ends hang the way a well loved heart does. You are torn in more places than you can count. A crimson red bursts from your right arm where you hooked that prickly ash. Royal blue threads dangle where you fell in love and weren’t caught. Dandelion yellow radiates from all the places you let others see you. Really see you.
This is what I love about you. You are a rainbow of stories. You don’t need to speak a word, I see it in your quilt. Everyone can see it. You are cloaked in rich, lived life. And it makes you shine. The grass, the birds, the sun rise to touch you, to tug you, to enrapture you.
I love the way you let the forest tear at your seams as you stare headlong into brave moonlight. I love the way you let the wilderness have you. You leave pieces of yourself around the forest floor, to be digested, turned into more light.
And my darling, do you know what is most lovely about you? It’s your willingness to drop your old patchwork quilt when it is time. The stories we weave eventually keep us from feeling the moonlight on our bare skin.
Let it all fall apart. Let it wither. Let it die. Wrap your old stories, your grandparents stories, around the base of well loved oak. Whisper them again. Or leave the cloak at your doorstep. Walk out into the wilderness of your life. Naked. Skin waiting to be touched by God.
May you let new stories happen. Stories to fit your growing life. Let fresh threads cover your new body. Let sun and moonlight and starlight creep in through the cracks of your skin. May you let the willows weave you a love story. Show them where to bend just right. And may you spin yourself in lake light and sparrow songs until you fall in love with everything you have been, are, and will be.
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Are you needing a deep reconnection to your inner-most knowing, feeling, sensing, loving? Yes, that’s why I made these two things just for you:
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