Hide and seek behind the shed, behind the van, behind the tree. What is it keeping you from being seen, from seeing yourself?
Here's my poem.
The way out is the way in.
Doing what you love is loving what you do, being all in.
Find a way to trust in the dark, in the shadows, in the cold. Be lit by a light that doesn't come from you.

The way out is the way in.

We're a bit of a wreck, more than a bit of one. My sink's full of dirty dishes, shoes and coats lie in piles by the door, dirty clothes spill over the floor of the laundry room.
My kids fight with sticks in the backyard and wrestle on the couch, jump over the banisters, wear   shoes without socks.
We all have trouble standing still.
But sometimes we catch a glimpse of glory in the middle of it all.

And what do we really have to do and what do we not have to?
Whose rules do we, should we, follow?
Becoming isn't an easy thing.

Only what He has for
me and mine is what I want.

Today Lukas cut Lethei's hair and threw stones in the puddles. Liam refused to eat chocolate because it would be bad for his cold. Lici fell asleep on the couch and spoke to someone? in her unconscious state. Lethei danced. Ern watched Planet of the Apes before and after an outpatient surgical procedure.

I write to you or to no one but God. Something like that sing/dance/ be like nobody's watching.

Live fully now. In today's mercies new.