I walk the shoreline with osprey chattering and a heron stealthily searching for dinner up ahead, hoping Hunter doesn’t disturb her. The late August sunshine wraps me in warmth, sparking an incandescent joy.

Tonight we’re traipsing through high-tide and scrambling over downed trees, but the previous evening, I was far from the shore, in the middle of the estuary, this blending of bay and river that’s my little slice of Chesapeake heaven. Afloat on my paddle board, I find myself mesmerized by the rolling of each sapphire wave, while I paddle towards the source of light. Sparkles lead me closer and closer, yet the sun is elusive. But I keep seeking the light.

Back on the shore, late summer wildflowers are taking over, in a lovely palette that’s overlooked with the coming fall colors. The tide is just right to expose a patch of pickerelweed, a valued native plant that’s essential for erosion prevention.

This natural beauty has become necessary to stop any erosion of my heart too. Maybe it’s aging, maybe it’s healing. But the rhythm of the seasons keeps growing as a source of joy for me. And comfort too – there’s safety in knowing what to expect each few months, of gentle anticipation for season’s unique delights. This week, I welcomed the blooming of the fiery cardinal flower as September sneaks up on me.

And of course the black gum trees are now peppered with vibrant ruby red leaves, so my soul can exhale. I know this season. This is beautiful and good, and whatever uncertainty may still surface, I know there’s this surety of delight too.

I’ve had SO much to do this week, but I’ve decided to let things fall away while I make the most of this glorious sunshine.

These gifts of nature are so necessary to my peace and security. The safety I find in this sanctuary, I believe is making me stronger.

I’ve been feeling more tired of fears and worries that nag me lately. Even though I say that with all gentleness towards my body and soul. There have been reasons for anxiety, for fear. My body has done its best to keep me safe – our bodies are programmed for survival and that’s a gift. But there’s a delicate balance we have to navigate with letting our strengthening souls signal to our bodies, it’s okay to risk, to now know, to follow the light without knowing where it will go.

I’m so grateful for how our bodies are designed to heal.

We need other bodies too – that is, healing and growth require relationships too. (I wrote about this at the beginning of the year as I embraced “light” as my theme!) Within a network of loving support, along with physiological safety and regulation, comes the opportunity for more measured risk.

I bought a paddle board this summer after dreaming about a kayak for years, and I love it.

I’m writing more after fear has held me back, and words of affirmation have found there way to me (thank you!).

I’m about to travel alone to an unknown world of a writing retreat, and I can’t wait.

I’m learning to say no, and I’m okay.

All so that I can give my best yes, to what matters most.

Right now, that YES is seeking the Light. I don’t know where it’s leading, yet my body and soul are at peace, coexisting with grief and anxiety. It’s a balance that doesn’t cripple me, but is making me stronger.

I hope you keep looking for light too, friends. Time doesn’t heal, but it sure does help. Day after day, month after month, year after year, follow after the light, what’s good, and beautiful, and true. The light, God the source of true, redeeming love, heals and grows us.

I’m here too, walking, paddling, and heading towards light and love. If this feels too hard today, and I understand – I’ve been a doubter too – may I encourage one small step this day. I’m here to say, keep going. I’m here to cheer you on.

May these pictures be a little source of light too 🙂

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