Have you ever been in a sunflower maze? I can see the tall flowers drooping their heads over mine, as I try to find my way.

In today's oppressively early summer heat I took a long drive by the coast to clear my mind and maybe find an ocean breeze.

The light slowly dawns as trees are silhouetted against the morning sky. First, it is a black on white kind of scene, but increasingly the color comes into focus and outside my window our cherry tree is standing.

I found a tiny seashell yesterday in the warm March sand; I was so surprised to see it at the water’s edge. I expect mussels to have both shells attached, but this was a perfectly formed white shell resting with its twin protective casing ajar; open and unafraid. I am neither.

Carrying and caring. How we do this deeply defines the way we live in this broken and hurting world where 500,000 people have died in less than a year in the US.

I could sure use a new canvas about now, how about you? I need a fresh perspective on nearly all that is around me.

What if we imaged our life like a book? We are given the pages, the pen, and the ink. Recently I met a woman who told me the story of her daughter creating “elephant stories,” narratives that are impossible to believe and not grounded at all.

Ever been stopped in your tracks by pain. Our weekend hike of a few 4,000 footers was completely derailed by an intense backache.

There's a sweet little coffee shop nearby, with gorgeous outdoor seating, keeping us socially distanced, yet able to breath in the beauty and the simple pleasure of a cup of cold brew (or tea for me:).

No matter what happens through the night, the sun rises. "Weeping may remain for a night, but rejoicing comes in the morning," Psalm 30:5.