Petals of Friendship

It has been a tough winter, hasn't it?  We are more than ready for a new season!  For some of us, it might mean a change in a season in our lives, and that could look like many different things. Maybe it's simply a time to get back to the basics of understanding how deeply loved you are.  To really allow yourself to rest in that and to fully invite God into your journey.  Baby steps, my friend! This post include a devotional to help you take one baby step.  You will enter the story of Jesus' interaction with the woman at the well, and will explore the kindness and grace of God. Be bless on your journey- Re A Walk to the Well Devotional - click here

Write your mission statement! In my last post, I talked about purpose.  More specifically, I talked about creating the foundation of your purpose by writing a personal mission statement for your life.  I realize this may sound daunting to some of you, but let's review the benefits of this exercise.  If you had time to consider your spiritual gifts, knowing what those are can be a great help to help you form your mission statement.  Your personal mission statement will: Validate your gifts. Give you direction on what you will and will not do in life. Be an inspiration to yourself, and it will inspire others as they see you working through the gifts God gave you. Give you freedom and clarity, enabling you to live through your God given gifts. Where do you begin? Set aside time for prayer.  Ask God to show you your gifts and talents. Write down moments in your life when you were doing something and you felt most alive. Take note of those moments as they

Purpose.  It’s a word we hear and we can either run to it, or run from it.  If you are drawn to it, then maybe this post is for you.  If you are already thinking this isn’t for you.  Give it a chance.  If anything, you might find a piece of your heart. So, I’m really not going to talk about purpose so much as I am going to talk about the foundation underneath it.   And while we have heard the word purpose a lot, we may not have heard the idea of crafting a personal mission statement. Businesses have them, typically.   But in real life, who really has one and does it resonate the truth of who you are?   I am not suggesting that this becomes a self-serving exercise.   It’s actually the opposite. There is a nudge or stirring in each of us, especially when we reach that midpoint in life that adjusts our focus to look forward to our "second half".   Some people think it's retirement.  Or, maybe you haven't reach that midpoint in life.  That's okay.  The n

The agave plant is beautiful. It grows in hot, dry climates mostly in the southwest.  Close to home, we might be acquainted with it as a sweetener.  The agave has many other beneficial uses, but it is also poisonous and can lead to problems if it punctures the skin.  Aren't we the same?  We possess both the bitter and the sweet. The poison that can pierce a heart and the ability to speak sweetly and convey love. Beautiful and ugly, good and bad. Each quality resides in all of of us.    What do we do when we've been hurt by someone we love?  Strike back with our own woundedness? Run? Retreat? Shut down? That's what I tend to do. I nurse my wound and feel sorry and angry at the same time. It's not a healthy place to be. In my head, I believe I have to figure it out on my own. And in that place, I usually remain stuck. Only until my heart starts to listen to the nudges of the Holy Spirit, do I stand a chance to make progress.  And so I have to run.  Not away from my

It is a mystery.   My husband held his hand out and in it was a lovely sea shell.   He heard it land on the driveway from out of nowhere.   We both wondered where it came from. Maybe a bird found it and dropped it in flight.   Or maybe the shell was caught up by the wind and happened to find its resting place near where Joe was working.   It was the last thing he expected to see.   The shell appeared delicate in structure, and it would seem the fall alone could have chipped it, but it didn’t.   Researchers have learned that sea shells are formed with a strong and resilient design structure.   This design endures the stress of their environment and allows fractures to appear where they would do the least harm to the organism inside.   It’s all about protection.   Isn’t that amazing?   What a great picture of how God uses His strength and resilience in our circumstances.   How He takes on the stresses so we don’t “break”.   God has shown up this way in my life many, many ti

The beginning of Petals of Friendship So what is  Petals of Friendship ?   In 1997, I was still what I would consider a fairly new believer.  I had a thirst for God and wanted the important people in my life to know HIM, too. My desire to know God on a deeper level led me to read and learn.  I also had a great community of women around me who helped me grow in my new found faith.  Thinking back, we were all in different places in our journeys, but one thing rang true.  We loved the Lord and shared that love in our own unique ways.  For me, it came through the creative process of writing.  And so,  Petals of Friendship  was what came from that.  I came across my original newsletter in some old papers I've kept and was surprised to see the date of my first newsletter.  The very first newsletter (top photo) was printed sometime around 1996, on a pin-feed printer.  I vaguely remember that first "edition".  I chuckled as I saw that  I added a crude hand drawn flower on it to

Dolores was someone who impacted my heart and yet, I never met her.  I learned about her at her memorial service, where her family gathered and shared loving memories and anecdotes about who she was and how she impacted their lives.  Her children and grandchildren conveyed who she was through stories filled with humor, tears and  tenderness.  Her unique and authentic qualities were a common thread throughout the evening.  Each shared memory drew a clear picture of who Dolores was, and as the stories unfolded I began to get a sense of her spirit and personality. Dolores not only sought joy, but she gave it away, freely.  It was a big part of who she was, and it was a significant trait she shared with her family and friends in abundance.  Her life was built upon it, and she communicated this to her family by telling them they each had a choice in life.  That each day, they had the ability to choose joy .  To her, it would be one of the most important daily choices anyone could m

A bold white line on the right side of my lane and a bright yellow line on the other side.  Orange cones warning me about fresh paint.  I was driving down a freshly striped road. Great.  Now I have to really focus and make sure I don’t veer out of my lane.  I felt a little nervous. If I veered just a little bit, well…I’d be creating a disaster. If you have ever driven over fresh road striping paint, or seen a car that has, you know it really ruins a car’s paint job.   Please let me stay within the lines .  That was my prayer.  Isn’t that how we sometimes try to live our lives?  Staying within the lines so we can have proof that we are doing it right?  I go outside the lines so many times.  It is easy to do and I don’t even recognize it at times because I just go about my merry way.  Yet, I veer off in seemingly simple ways.  By comparing myself to others, by putting myself down, through my attitude toward others, my words, my actions…shall I go on?    I thought about Peter

I was never a good swimmer.  But when I was invited to a friend’s pool party, I begged my mom to go.  The pool looked mammoth to me and all I needed to know was which side was the shallow side.  The safe side. So that’s where I parked myself.  But after a while, I noticed I was the only one at that end of the pool.  The other girls were experienced swimmers and were bouncing around in the deep end. Longing to fit in as much as possible, I was determined to somehow get to the other side. I carefully navigated my way across  by tip toeing on a narrow ledge along the perimeter of the pool.  I used it to make the journey over to the deep end, and I felt pretty satisfied for making it there successfully.  Then my foot slipped.  I felt my body slowly drift just far enough from the edge of the pool where the security of the ledge disappeared.  Suddenly, I had nothing to hold on to that would keep me safely attached to the edge of the pool.  I tried hard to keep my head above the water, but

To be seen by God “Do I believe in God?  Yes!  When I am at work I feel like I am assisted by someone who leads me to do things that are greater than myself, greater than what I have done before.”  Henri Matisse Close to the end of his artistic career, Matisse embarked on creating “The Chapelle du Rosaire de Vence” (Chapel of the Rosary), a chapel in France.  He considered it the most significant work of his career, and perhaps one could say that something outside himself caused him to create this masterpiece.  As I read his thoughts, I am certain there was something more to why he created art of any kind. On the outside, his long-standing friendship with Monique Bourgeois, who he met as a young nurse, engaged and motivated him to take on this work.  Their friendship developed over time and lasted for years.  They remained friends as she became a Dominican nun, and his work took on life and breath when he began designing the chapel.  But was it more than this friendship that moved h

My husband has a knack for finding used exotic cars.  Head turning cars priced to where the average Joe can afford them.  And he’s done this a few times.  One of those cars was a beautiful Jaguar.  It was luxury beyond what I’ve ever sat in and we enjoyed that car for many years.  He appreciated it because of its fine qualities and features.  Everything about that car was top notch, inside and out.  He knew every aspect of the car and meticulously cared for it, especially its signature British Racing Green paint job.  Over time, the elements started to invade the paint and caused it to breakdown and fail.  It began to fade and discolor in areas and the luster of the paint was completely missing in many spots.  The only thing that would truly help “fix” the erosion was a restoration.  The car really wasn’t worth putting that kind of money into it.  Reluctantly, he sold it.  We can be affected by so many things in our lives.  We are a one of a kind creation that comes into the world

I had a personal tailor growing up.  Sounds a bit posh, doesn't it?  But I really did.  My father was a tailor (always will be a tailor), and of course the best tailor around.  All my life, he took care of my alterations with expert care. He knew how I was built. One arm just a tiny bit longer than the other, one hip a little off, and an ever fluctuating waistline. He altered my clothes perfectly and instinctively. Over the past few years though, his eyesight has dimmed and he can't tailor the way he could when his vision was sharp.  I remember shopping with confidence knowing he could fix anything that didn't fit me quite right. So, I wouldn't hesitate to buy things that needed altering. I knew he would be ready and willing to make the necessary changes to my clothes, transforming them to fit my crooked body.    This is my sewing machine.  It belonged to my dad. Now a days, I know I can't run to my dad to make alterations for me.  I miss being able to go to hi

The painting was really sad. It was supposed to depict a cluster of grapes, but it looked like a diseased raspberry instead. I’m talking about an experience at one of those painting parties, where you follow the instructions of a talented teacher and your great hope is that yours will look as good as hers. Oh, and did I mention they served wine at this party?  I think it was supposed to help?  Hmmm, not so much. I am not being hard on myself. I am being a realistic critic, and my completed painting really was a mess.  I took it home and tucked it in a corner where I would not see it.  Face down, out of sight, out of mind.   Not too long ago, when I was cleaning my space, I came across it and I cringed.  Instead of putting it away again, I did the next best thing.  I painted right over it.  Yep, covered up the evidence, covered up the mess. I felt relief. Not a single grape existed anywhere on that canvas.  With a few quick brush strokes I had a “new” canvas that I could use for so