Down Cottonwood Lane

Even though I’ve been running for miles, the meadow is still and unmovable. Just like it’s always been. My urgency is fruitless, so I force my feet to stop moving. Instead, I take in the meadow with my new life-eyes. I turn my head in every direction. I sink my feet farther into the dewy grass. 

And I breathe in deeply. 

Oh, the music that used to play in the sky. Each sunset and sunrise a different tune! I’d dance in fearless joy and sing off-key and my childlike heart to the Light-Maker’s rhythm pleased Him very much. The meadow memories don’t haunt me now, instead they pour over me like happiness.

I become like Young Maryn once again. Read more

My small conversation with the Light-Maker bolsters my strength to endure the wild, unruly Ocean. When my voice breaks fully free again, I’ll offer more words, but for now, I revel in the Maker’s response to me. Joy that rivals the expanse of Ocean spreads between my heart and soul. Peace becomes a part of me rather than just the place I stand and sleep. An entire world of radiance has been gifted in response to my words that came out small and flat. 

Aneta’s strength makes more sense to me. Her perseverance is a result of a thousand great gifts, not her own ability to strive and overcome. There’s another side to thirty years. . .the side where you see healing and joy and bigger life than you could imagine on your own. 

“Well, look at that! You have daffodils now.” Aneta’s voice cuts through the thoughts that have claimed my entire morning. Read more

I open my eyes to sunrise. The colors melt together in an unbelievable display of oranges and pinks, vibrantly soft in every hue. I glance at Aneta who is already standing toward sunrise, savoring every bit of newness that comes with another day. 

I see Stella sitting on the edge of Peace, transfixed with how the light plays on Ocean water. She looks stronger today. I sit beside her and only then do I notice the tiniest blue blossoms weaving in and out of the greenest leaves I’ve ever seen. Aneta said there would be beauty for Stella.

Aneta was right.

“That is the prettiest shade of green I’ve ever seen, Stella. I’m so glad it’s yours.”  Read more

I wrap my arms around Aneta and listen to her scream. It pierces right through me and my ears begin to bleed. Her screams tell a story. . .a story impossible to tell with words. Aneta has spent years on Ocean. She has been lonely. . . unbelievably hurt by those who belonged in her life before Ocean. For months at a time, her mind has been attacked and left to shreds. 

Every hurting part of her has been invisible to me before now. But I see her terror in this moment. My life-eyes have opened to the parts of life that need healed and helped and held. 

Aneta–the girl who offers sunflowers and violets, plans soup for sunset, and asks about my grief–needs to be seen past the love she holds for others and the hope she shares just by being alive to life. Read more