Tomorrow There Will Be Wonders

 Dear family and dear friends,

I love what a heard a neighbor teach us this month about being laser focused.  He was missing one of our special teachers during our church’s worldwide biyearly conference.  He talked about loving a season so deeply that it was difficult to think about advancing forward.  Maybe that is what is happening with me—isn’t springtime and Easter

 and connecting with our little ones, exhilarating, rejuvenating, joyful? 

 So much so, that leaving them can instill withdrawal pangs! 

Thus, what if we cleave to the blessing of memory, pictures, journals, writing and speaking the ripples and echoes of expressed and unexpressed love from previous connections?  Isn’t it endearing to think about hens (mothers and fathers, grandmothers and grandfathers) with wings or arms outstretched in the nurturing of their little chicks? 

Even in service: ("Grandma, I feel the Spirit when I scrub the walls and dig weeds!")

He is even with us in our waste places!

(Thank you, to William, for cutting down a tree, filling a trash with wonderful weeds--

and to willing siblings for sweeping up the rear!) 

We learned from our granddaughters in New Mexico, preparing to move to South Georgia, that heaven hears prayers of little ones--when limited housing options encouraged fervent requests out of the mouth of babes to yield a wonderful, adequate, welcoming abode to prepare to move in to. 

Grandchildren continue to help us practice looking for “all things bright and beautiful.” 

Nurturing smiles and sunshine.

 

Gathering goodness, warmth, 

in uniting in faith, seeking greater perspective, even from the youngest set of eyes. 

We like having the worldwide conference at our fingertips.  Some of us even take notes!

We continue to seek treasures—"Golden” ones at the end of our rainbows--

which are usually NOT things at all, but relationships, experiences, growth. 

It is a blessing to notice and nurture talents, gifts and gratitude 

as we weather storms, health challenges, trials.

Have you ever had the privilege of being invited into someone’s house just for a moment, to humbly witness the fragile blessing of beginnings?  This is what we felt as we peeked in on four 11-day old kittens in a “new” (to our children) bathroom-under-construction house of our Maria and Jacob. 

A kind neighbor last week shared his sourdough start from a sheepherder before 1900.  

As we practice and remember kneading moments with grandchildren,

we bask in the memory of deserts in springtime 

and celebrate coming home to one of the largest snowfalls in our mountains.

Perhaps when invited by grandchildren to be “grand” for a day 

and review records of loved ones’ journeys into parts unknown, 

we can find something good in each day that promises rebirth, renewal, rejuvenation, redirection, grounding and settling, reaching and resting.  What are the colors of your springtime blossoms?

  

What horizons are beckoning and lifting you today? 

We love you! Val and Laurene Starkey