Walks.
The path keeps widening.
Not only beneath my feet, but within my life.
Sometimes it leads into the woods.
Sometimes to the shore.
The horizon.
Sometimes only outside my own front door, because that is as far as that day’s growth allows.
Sometimes I come home with a tiny treasure.
Sometimes a little more courage.
Sometimes a curiosity that wanted to stay, if only for one longer moment.
A new encounter that didn’t send my heart looking for an exit.
A quiet place that no longer required bracing.
A moment that lingered long enough to become delight.
Sometimes the miracle is simply sitting beneath the stars again…
…discovering I can finally look up.
Savoring what my senses are receiving instead of being instantly flooded.
Less bracing.
Less pulse pounding.
Less scanning.
More presence.
Sometimes the miracle is only one more step than the day before.
One more doorway.
One more horizon.
One more ordinary moment received instead of survived.
Little by little, the path becomes more familiar with peace than fear.
These are the field notes of a life quietly widening through communion with Real Jesus.
A Friend for the Walk
A little companion joined us for the journey home.
Sometimes the path becomes a miracle one small gift at a time.
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