Maryn. I am Maryn, and I wear a dress made of flowers. Real flowers so far as I can tell, but nothing has felt very real for quite some time. But never mind that. I choose the prettiest flowers on my Island, and I stitch the blooms into the kind of dress I want to wear.
When the flowers wilt, I am already dreaming of another dress I can create on this paradise. This is my life. Built from scratch. Every last piece of it.
Today, my dress is crafted with azaleas, all different shades. It wraps close against my skin and the flowery fabric skims the top of my bare feet.
The clouds overhead cast dark shadows on my dress, but I am determined to finish scavenging for tomorrow’s garment.
As I rummage through the tall grass for wildflowers, I think about Young Maryn. Young Maryn is who I used to be. She walks around like a reverie and invites herself along when I’d rather not have her for company at all. Her innocent, energetic words plague me, and I pull at the grass with frustration . . .
We planted roses at the blue house last week. My nephews brought us quite the collection from their grandma’s home. How special to have a piece of someone else’s garden!
As I wait for fall, I soak up all the late, golden days I have left. I may be drinking pumpkin spice lattes and planning holiday parties, but I’m happily sitting in the in-between season of summer-fall.
We’ll call it. . .Summerfall. Read more
Recently, the Holy Spirit urged me to get in the quiet for a couple of weeks. I needed to shut off social noise, stop writing, and enjoy life without everything that made it habitual. This rest was rejuvenating and necessary. I found I loved my life apart from my work, apart from all that social noise.
But in this quiet, God was also preparing me for battle. Though, I could not see it then.
For all of August, the Holy Spirit laid 1st and 2nd Corinthians deep into my heart. I had no true idea why. I loved 2 Corinthians 1:3-5– Read more
In my time away from regular life, work, and all the noise that comes with it, I found myself nurturing my garden with intention. I was looking up YouTube how-to videos, watching Monty Don do his garden magic, soaking up all the things I never knew, trying things that would have scared me silly just last year, and enjoying the quiet process of nurturing the small life that grows in gardening pots.
Flowers from the grocery store have turned into so much more. They have become life lessons, picture frames for my own soul seasons, and resilient blooms that return and return and return.
My garden is delightful, but not spectacular. I coax life, watch for life, and wait for life. Nurture and anticipate. That’s all that’s required of me. I’m not working to a finished garden, but walking through the process that yields a healthier garden. Read more