You’ve come again old friend, rust covered and crisp. Convincing me to unfold into the change in the air, the darkening of colors merging from light and fleeting into deep and rich. These are the moments when my soul surrenders, to the possibilities of healing, to the hope of a new season, to the knowing that I am exactly where I need to be.
Every season has a purpose, if you’re still enough to look between the challenges, past the murky water and through to the resonating understanding that you were built for this moment.
Carry me through this one, Autumn, now barely covered in browns.
Steady me into the blank canvas of winter, and paint the scene of my story. I give it away to you, as the world makes sense again when you arrive.
As it all unravels toward colder months and frost, I am mended in the peace of your presence.
Faith. Women. Empowerment. 
Leave a comment