Easter morning started out with a glorious walk.
Best place in the world to start? Lying under my drippy, drapey zelcovia tree,
sunlight flickering through the leaves.
Happy, dreamy place.
Can't lie there long if I'm going to go walking . . .
and get back to get everyone up for church . . .
and get the ironing done (that would be wise to have had done last night.)
Morning walks . . . best time of the day.
God wants me to spend time with Him.
To talk with Him.
I'm learning to do that.
I'm not a talker.
I'm a listener.
And a stuffer of my own thoughts.
Way deep down.
God is teaching me to open up and talk to Him.
That He won't be bored . . .
or rushed . . .
That talking to Him in an atmosphere of unconditional love and acceptance is healing.
That letting Him know my deepest thoughts draws us close . . .
just like any other healthy relationship.
He says, "Come close to me, and I will come close to you."
And I have.
And He has.
And I'm beginning to see . . .
. . . that opening myself up in an atmosphere of perfect grace
can be the safest place in the world . . .
. . . and make these walks the best time of the day.