Today you are You, that is truer than true. There is no one alive who is You-er than You.

—Dr. Seuss

"Be yourself; everyone else is already taken."

God’s angels are watching over us.

David Jeremiah

A beautiful letter from a daddy to his 1st child as he heads off to school...

 My hands paused for an extra moment this morning; hovering over the shoes that would carry you off to Kindergarten. For a fleeting moment I thought if I waited long enough I could turn back the clock. Perhaps time would settle into stillness long enough so I could revisit all the times I've rushed you out of childhood and forgotten you are still beautifully wrapped in innocence and wonder. 

My throat tightened the way it always does before the tears start to fall. Your feet danced back and forth with excitement, this new beginning pulsing through your body. Your sister and brother helped you with your new backpack and asked you questions you were too excited to hear. As the oldest you not only forge this path for yourself, but you also make a way for them when their time comes.

 Have a blessed and rest-filled weekend dear readers!

A silence fell over the group that went on…and on…and on. So, I started to talk. I chatted on like a radio.

Carole Mayhall

I’ve been reading through the book of Job from the Bible this summer. It really is a painful little book. It’s painful, not only because of the horrific catastrophes that happen to Job. That is excruciating enough to imagine. But, to have to listen in as his closest friends carelessly prattle on and on as Job suffers…well, that just breaks my heart.

Give light and people will find the way.

—Ella Baker

The sun room in the condo where we’ve stayed in Big Sky, Montana the last couple of years overlooks a small lake hedged in by the small ski village. The village sits at the base of Lone Peak. And the view at sunrise is breathtaking.  

We Heart Matters gals are really excited to share our latest devotional with you! So, please mark your calendars! We'd love to see you!! 

Our fourth guest is a writer of poetry. Her name is Denise Smith Collier and her beautiful words can be found on her Facebook page, Heart of Worship. May these words from both of her poems bless and encourage you today...  

Love Letter from Jesus

My beautiful bride,
I long so for you,
With sharing our love,
Communion of two.

• Make small daily changes for big impact
• Release the blame and shame that have kept you stuck
• Have a “good enough” relationship with food 
• Embrace life beyond the scale     
• Live at peace with your body

This week we Heart Matters gals are highlighting Amber Krueger's beautiful blog. She uses her gifts of creativity and artistry to bless and encourage others to do the same.

Check out her blog: https://byambershands.com/. It's a wonderful collection of yummy recipes, creative crafts and ideas to inspire you to tap into your own God-given gifts and abilities.

The last few days have been incredibly difficult ones for me.

On days like today, when my heart is heavily burdened, when my thoughts are clouded and my spirit is grieved, I find myself drawn to performing simple tasks with my hands.

During the month of July, we gals at Heart Matters want to lift the voices of other women who write beautiful blogs.

I'm delighted to re-post a beautifully written blog by Hannah Sorvik Fordice.

The story of life is quicker than the blink of an eye, it is hello, goodbye…until we meet again.

—Jimi Hendrix 

One of the advantages of advancing years are all the memories that are stowed away in the heart. Like treasures that have been carefully tucked away up in the attic, we brush the cobwebs aside, lift the trunk lid and memories come spilling out.

I’ve reached the age where my train of thought often leaves the station without me.

—Maxine 

I’m aging. And it’s getting more and more apparent: from the crow’s feet around my eyes to my ever-growing wattle neck. Yep. Inherited that lovely item from my grandma o. There were so many wonderful traits I would have loved to have inherited from grams, but, this is the one I got. 

“There is nothing more beautiful than someone who goes out of their way to make life beautiful for others.”

Mandy Hale

“I tell you the truth, anything you do for the least of my people here, you also do for me.”

We gals grew up hearing and reading love stories and fairy tales from the time we were little. One of my very favorites was, and still is, Cinderella. 

Perhaps I am drawn to her story because, like myself, she was just an ordinary gal. 

And, she, like many of us, found herself stuck in what felt like the inescapable drudgery of daily life.  

No book is a chapter

No chapter tells the whole story

No mistake defines who we are…

I heard an old man speak once… He said that he’d finally figured out a few years ago that his profound sense of control, in the world and over his life, is an addiction and a total illusion. He said that when he sees little kids sitting in the back seat of cars, in those car seats that have steering wheels, with grim expressions of concentration on their faces, clearly convinced that their efforts are causing the car to do whatever it is doing, he thinks of himself and his relationship with God: God who drives along silently, gently amused, in the real driver’s seat.

Anne Lamott  

I don’t know if it’s because I’m a firstborn. A child of divorce. A burden-bearer by nature that desperately wants everything to be alright. Or a combination of all three. 

“I’m feeling very thin and vulnerable, in a good way.”

Amy Layne Litzelman 

It hit out of nowhere. The flu.  

They ate till they were gorged— he had given them what they craved.

Psalm 78:29

There is a difference between eating and drinking for strength and from mere gluttony.
Henry David Thoreau (1817-1862) 

They were longing for a better country… a heavenly one.

Hebrews 11:16

Think for a moment about the word paradise, what comes to your mind? Is your first thought a tropical retreat with white sandy beaches and swaying palm trees? Or does a cabin up in snow-capped mountains with stunning views better fit your notion of the word?

My idea of paradise would be a little cottage surrounded by flower-filled gardens set in the Lake District of England.

The mere thought of getting away to places such as these stirs our hearts with longing.

There is something almost magical in the plotting and planning of a trip, whether it is to Boston or Barbados, Portland or Paris. Once we’ve settled on where we are going, the anticipation begins to build as the longed-for day of departure approaches, which to me is half the fun. After counting down the days on your calendar, you finally begin your journey, and before you know it, you are finally in the destination of your dreams - you are in paradise.  

But, a strange thing begins to happen to me after I’ve been away awhile. I begin to feel a lot like Dorothy from the Wizard of Oz. In spite of the fact that Dorothy and I once ached to be somewhere over the rainbow where all our dreams would come true, it is not long after our wishes have been fulfilled that we begin to yearn to be back home.

It’s not what you gather, but what you scatter that tells what kind of life you have lived.

Helen Walton

Whoever clings to his life shall lose it, and whoever loses his life shall save it.

Luke 17:33

It’s midway through August now, and I’ve already spotted signs of season’s change.

I’ve spied goldenrod blooming, burning bushes blushing in shades of pink and red, and tall grasses waving taupe-colored plumage. I’ve noticed crabapple trees shedding their yellowed leaves and stood gazing in marveled wonder at the peapod-shaped seeds that now top what was once a cheery carrot-orange butterfly weed.

I’ve been so taken by those odd looking seed pods of late, that I’ve started taking pictures of them. Have you seen them in your neck of the woods? If not, you ought to be on the lookout for them.

They’re green now. But, as the waning days of summer march on, they will dry into a tanned husk and break open. Then, the seeds inside will fly.

Last year I picked a dried pod that was chuck full of seeds and placed it on my desk. I can’t explain it, but, it spoke to me then… It speaks a clearer message to me now.

Here's what it's whispering...

My life. Your life. Our lives. They’re fleeting.

…the Father…does not change like shifting shadows.

James 1:17

I’m Lost

I’ve gone to look for myself

If I get back before I return

Please ask me to wait!

Our last day in Aix en Provence happened to be Market Day. And I, for one, was not leaving until I had sufficiently shopped as many stalls as possible.

Nearly every inch of those tight, old Roman city streets was lined with vendors plying their wares.

We began our little spree amidst the artfully displayed tables piled high with vegies of every shape and variety. Little chalkboards with the prices in Euros were wedged between purple l’aubergine (eggplant), bright red tomatoes, orange peppers and bundles of laitue (lettuce).

From there we made our way over to the local les fromagers (cheese makers) who were offering small wedges to taste, and to the meat merchants slicing slivers of saucisson for sampling. And who in their right mind would pass up the wine vendors? A sip of summer rosé does a heart good.

Then there were the stands of fresh cut flowers—big bouquets of les tournesols (sunflowers), peonies and roses, as well as plants to add to one’s garden. I could’ve stayed there all day, but, a booth filled with homemade soaps of jasmine, cherry blossom, vanille, and nearly every fragrance under the sun, tempted me to move on. That was followed by a stall filled with all things lavende (lavender).

The deeper we went into the market, the greater the hordes of humanity. Temps were nearing 100° - the humidity was thick.

And I loved it! Absolute joy…

That is until my hubby and I got separated.

 "My soul is utterly frantic for that single place of perfect refuge from which I can clearly see the winds rip and hear the tempest tear, yet despite the ferocity of the tumult I rest in such sublime peace it is as if neither existed at all. And if I have not found such a place, it is because I have not yet found God."

Craig D. Lounsbrough

Between thunderstorms, I scampered outside for a breath of fresh air…and to take a sneak peek at the state of my waterlogged gardens. There amidst the leaves and twigs littered across our yard and driveway, I spotted a sweet little birds nest lying on its side. I was grief stricken. The violent wind and rain had shaken that little shelter right out of the tree limbs.

I carefully took the nest inside and placed it on my desk in my office. Then, I made my way back out to the deck to pull my poor potted lavender plant under the eve. It, too, looked as if it had had quite enough of the wet weather and could use a bit of a reprieve.

Hoping to spend a few minutes outside journaling between storms, I set out in search of paper towels to dry off my patio table and chairs.

As I began to wipe the glass surface, I noticed a moth clinging to the underside of our table.

I ran inside to grab my camera and took a photo of my insect friend just as the heavens began to weep once more, sending me scurrying inside.

Standing at my sliding glass doors I watched the heavy raindrops pour down from the sky. It felt as if the heavens were weeping both raindrops and tears.

With all the tragic events that have unfolded, with such hatred and division plaguing this nation of ours…is it any wonder?

I wept along with the clouds.

“Spring flew swiftly by, and summer came; and if the village had been beautiful at first, it was now in the full glow and luxuriance of its richness. The great trees, which had looked shrunken and bare in the earlier months, had now burst into strong life and health; and stretching forth their green arms over the thirsty ground, converted open and naked spots into choice nooks, where was a deep and pleasant shade from which to look upon the wide prospect, steeped in sunshine, which lay stretched out beyond. The earth had donned her mantle of brightest green; and shed her richest perfumes abroad. It was the prime and vigour of the year; all things were glad and flourishing.”

Charles Dickens, Oliver Twist

You made summer… and gave it to the earth.