Well, perhaps the Mayans were wrong.
:-: It's almost the end of the year. And such memories... such colors, vivid and clear. It is so strange to see where I have come from. So beautiful to know how far i've grown. My blessed Father in heaven waters the ground of my soul with a fragrant mist. His love for me over bounds my imagination.
:-: Piece by piece I surrender. He calls, I answer... I have learned to love his voice. Safety, not for my body, but for my soul. Beautiful mystery shrouded in light. I see the hue with eyes not from the earth. Blind, mute and deaf I am reaching for Him... I call, He answers. He came to my rescue and I... I understand a bit more, what it means to Trust.
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