the Love that carries us: a New Year's gift for you

The sky is pinking as I type, sun setting on a clear blue day--the final day of 2012. My husband and I are easing into New Year's Eve, leaving behind expectations to settle instead into the perfectly imperfect: just us, here, loving this home and each other (and our currently clinging-to-my-lap cat, Kiki).

I can't think of a better way to wrap up 2012.

I've been wondering all day what to say to you, sweet friends, what uplifting and inspiring words I could use to sum up a wild rollercoaster of a year. But words don't seem enough today. Have you, too, been through hurt and healing, tears and laughter, stuckness and moving forward, terrible pain and wild joy?

I bet you have.

So let's just be here, now, wherever that here may be. Let's sink deep into the peace of this moment (even if chaos surrounds you). Let's look for even one tiny blessing and let it ripple out. Let's remember the triumph and tragedy of 2012 . . . and look toward 2013 with grace, with surrender, with starry eyes and hoping hearts, with trust in the Love that carries us all (even when we fight it).

(me + deer; backyard companions)

I recently began a simple, gentle practice on Sprout's Facebook page, offering a "Right now": capturing in a few words what grace or grief surrounds me at that moment, looking at the reality of what is and letting it be . . . and then I ask you, sweet one, to share your own "now."

Will you join us?

Here's what I'll soon share:

right now: cat curled on lap; sinkful of dishes half-washed; inspiration rising; comfort of home welcoming; sweet husband there, me here, & you there: all of us, sweets, held in gentle prayer for a new year glittering with possibility.

I'll leave you with this: a little gift from me to you: a blessing for us in the new year.

 

 

Happy New Year, sweet ones.

Be safe.

Be well.



Love,
Amanda