Cries From My Soul

For more years than I can recall, my soul has longed to write. I start blogs, then I give up. I journal for a while then I give up. Why? Fear…fear of what might happen if I succeeded and the expectations that come with that success.

We all have those things that cry out from the depths of our souls; passions, drives, those themes that seem to recur regularly as we travel the path of life. I believe we are all created to add to and make this world a better place. Our lives are not without purpose or value. God placed us here at a certain time and in a certain place for a reason. Ours is to stay connected so that we may live out that higher purpose and complete the task we were assigned.

Don’t get caught up in the idea that only big things count as callings. Being a kind and caring person to all you meet, while important for all of us, some folks just seem to effortlessly be at the right place to help. And in so doing, they fulfill their calling. It is the simple things. It is act of doing what you feel most strongly about in a way that fulfills your spirit and makes the world a better place.

Conquering The Fear

My Fear Monster has controlled my life for too long. I may never get published, but I will write. However, writing is not my calling. Writing, the art and craft of using words for a specific purpose, is the vehicle for my calling. Every job, task, or activity that has had meaning and provided me with a sense of fulfillment have all shared one commonality. In all things I was able to help others. Professionally I was a nurse, an assistant teacher, church receptionist, and shop owner. I am a dismal businesswoman, but I excel at assisting and guiding people. I tried to stay in business for the mere purpose of selling items I had made. I hate it. I have to force myself to do it; thus I fail. My calling isn’t making and selling. I can do it but it robs my soul of joy. From the day forward I choose joy over fear.

So, how to find and live out your purpose? In a word, listen. In the stillness of the early morning light, quiet your mind, and listen. Listen for that still small voice inside. It takes practice to be fully quiet and present, but keep trying. Just a few minutes a day is all it takes. Give yourself this gift. First thing in the morning before the rest of the world wakes up, take time to listen.

Ritual, as a part of focusing the mind to hear and listen (yes, they are different), is important. Small things we do to prepare alert our mind that something special is about to happen. I am not great at setting up and keeping rituals. I love the idea but in practice am not great at it.

My sacred space.

I finally have my desk area set up and this is now where I spend my mornings. I light my candle, sip my coffee, read from my Bible and devotional books, write by hand in a journal and I listen. I wait. Because that still small voice may not arrive today, but it will arrive and when it does I want to be ready. Ready to hear and respond.

I believe there is an inner longing and purpose inside each of us. If only we, as human beings, would spend as much time looking inward to become better people as we do looking outward at what others are doing (or not doing), the good would soon outweigh the bad and the world would really be a beautiful place to live.

Until next time…

~Sheryl

The Fragility of Routine

I have a new routine. I don’t generally “do” routines as I rarely do the same thing the same way two days in a row. At least that is always what I thought. Then my brother said, “I bet you do and just don’t realize it.” Yeah, I think he is right.

I do wake up and drink coffee. Every. Single. Day. And now I have a routine of how I fix my refillable coffee pods each morning. I then take my morning coffee and checked Instagram, emails and text messages, which led to Pinterest, more Instagram, and maybe a game or two and then catch up on television. I am embarrassed to say that this routine ate up hours of my life.

My new routine is much like what I wrote about in Suburban Sunrise. Coffee with God, nature and no electronics. Sometimes I bring my Kindle out to read with my second cup of coffee. Now that the weather is delightfully autumnal, I will be spending much more time outside. Maybe even upping my vitamin D levels a bit in the process.

Routine Interrupted Then Found Again

I tell you all that to say that the reason I didn’t blog yesterday was because my routine got interrupted. Prior to this delightful weather, we had a day of overcast, wind and light rain. All that warm humidity bumping into cooler temperatures will do that. It was Monday and the man who mows our yard was due and I failed to get money to pay him which necessitated a third trip to the grocery store in three days. He comes early so I had to get started even earlier. Thus, no routine. Once home from the store I got busy doing other stuff and there went the day. It disturbs me how little it takes to throw me off kilter. Kind of like a top spinning round and round, the slightest nudge and it goes all wonky until it finally falls over. And that was my Monday.

Today my routine was intact. A brisk, breezy 54 degrees outside, I donned my flannel jammy bottoms, t-shirt, sweatshirt, and thick socks to sit outside. I love it. My blood is still summer thin and I’m not going to lie. I was shivering. Not teeth chattering, but just a little shiver. I contemplated more clothes, a hat or a blanket, but decided to guts it up and have “wild coffee” in my backyard. And wild it was.

While I was looking down I heard a tree branch moving wildly and thought a squirrel had jumped from it to the roof of my neighbor’s house. I didn’t see anything on the roof, but out of the corner of my eye I caught movement higher up in the tree. Sitting very still I watched that spot until I realized there was a huge red shouldered hawk up there. I got up and got my binoculars to get a better view. After several tries I aimed the binoculars just right and there he was, pecking, pulling and devouring whatever it was he just caught. By the looks of what was falling to the ground, it was a small bird. Fascinated, I watched him eat. Take a bite. Look around. Repeat. When my dogs inside the house began to bark at who know what, he hunkered down as much as possible before repeating the eat, look, eat cycle. I was mesmerized. When he was finished he spent a great deal of time rubbing the sides of his face on the tree limb, removing any residue and cleaning himself before moving on. Skillfully he jumped from one branch to the next, where he would have an open path out of the tree. After a moment of surveying the area he flew off.

Moral of The Story

There are several things that come to mind that can be learned from the past two days. First, if my routine gets blown out of the water, don’t despair. Pick up wherever I am and keep going. So, it didn’t happen in exactly the way I like it to. Three o’clock in the afternoon is a bit early to go back to bed in order to begin again. So, I had time with God later in the day, skipped the blogging and cooked an amazing meal. Oh, and I cleaned out my closet and added to my donation pile. Still a highly successful day. I learning to roll with the flow and still be productive.

It is so easy to live inside and miss this amazing show. I grumble about the weather, but I think if I just find the right time of day to be outside, everyday has something beautiful to offer. The warm humid days will allow me to appreciate these cool breezy days all the more. And, without a doubt, my body, mind and soul will be happier for just having been a witness to the joy found in nature.

Fall = Comfort Food

So, I planned on talking about food today. In anticipation of the weather, I had some comfort foods on my menu. I will write about that tomorrow.

While the weather is so outstanding I am going to make a drive to my favorite nursery. Maybe even buy something for the front porch. The yard isn’t ready for plants yet, but I can still decorate the patio and porch with living beauty.

Enjoy the day,

Sheryl

Yearning

Thunder rumbles in the background as the morning slowly wakes.

Darkness giving way to light, a muted and soft light.

The sky hovers low to the ground.

Clouds,

Waiting for their cue,

To release the nourishment obtained within.

Then it begins, rain like tears pour from the heavens.

Having released their burden

The clouds become light.

Streaming through my window

Revealing the corner of my world.


When most of my friends were reading Nancy Drew I was infatuated with Elizabeth Barrett and Robert Browning. I was most likely the only kid to peruse that musty section of my local library. Unfortunately this love for poetry didn’t remain a mainstay of my life. Like so many things it was a passing fancy. And yet, when I do seek out poetry I find it speaks to my soul in a way prose generally does not.

I’ve never studied poetry nor do I know the structure and style of poetry. I just like the rhythm and the feel I get from a beautiful phrase or perfectly placed word.

My fiber art is like tactile poetry. I create organic shapes with color and texture that make me feel something. I can’t always identify what that something is, but I know it when I feel it. Like my words, my art helps me connect to my Creator. All I have are gifts from Him.

Until tomorrow, may you find that thing that helps you connect to God and find your inner peace.