Interesting, I thought. I haven’t had a Christmas tree plugged into that socket in three years, yet the smart speaker still responds, even when it’s turning a lamp on and off. If anything, she should not be “authorized” to turn anything on or off if it is no longer the “Christmas tree”, for example.
The last rose of summer. Tiny in size. Deep crimson, the color. Intoxicating fragrance. A little piece of my heart at the end of a stem. Beauty emerging from the thorns.
Tomorrow is a new day. I will wake up on the 12th and move forward into another month. Life changed. I will breathe in and out and count my blessings. I will carry a mask in my purse and in my car for when it is needed and required. I will stand in the square and wait my turn. I will smile with my eyes and attempt limited conversation with strangers who are also waiting. And together we will all move forward.
Darkness, blinded by the very light it is designed to keep out.
How ironic that the blinds actually cast the Light.
Even more ironic when the Light is so bright it blinds.
Isn’t that how Grace works too?
We live in four seasons. The calendar marks the days, but the seasons put a mark on our hearts. Acutely aware of the passing time, seasons forge their own path in their own time, which then becomes our time. We don’t choose the timing or the path, but we are full participants in both.