When Light Returns

After a storm, light appears even more precious.
After a dark night, day can appear holy.
Blue sky, miraculous.
Clouds — wonders to behold.
Once during Meeting for Worship I saw the image of a box. I was inside it and in complete and utter darkness.
An unknown hand holding a pin pricked a hole through the box and the tiniest shaft of light came through.
Once my eyes adjusted, I could see inside the box, even though it was dim.
This was how I came to understand the power of The Light.

Photos © Sondra Sula.

Take a walk with me by reading my daily devotional book, Meditations on Mendocino by Sondra Sula. Available on Amazon in paperback or Kindle versions.

If you’d prefer a daily river walk, Reflections on the Fox River and Beyond by Sondra Sula, might just be the book for you.

Seeking Solace Through Solitude

Do you ever feel unbearably sad? Do you ever feel a deep ache inside as if the water in your body has receded and all that’s left of you is a heap of dry bones? I sometimes do.
But dry bones have been known to dance. At least according to Ezekiel in the Old Testament.
Once the bones start moving, anything can happen.
Achy joints can become supple again. Loss can seem like gain. 
Blossoming can still be possible, even in drought conditions. And flowering brings more life — even visitations.
God waters my dry bones when I feel this way and sets in motion a field of possibilities — from mere acceptance to barely audible murmurs of joy. And in stillness, in solitude, I can hear the whispers.

Photos © Sondra Sula.

Take a walk with me by reading my most recent daily devotional book, Meditations on Mendocino by Sondra Sula. Available on Amazon in paperback or Kindle versions.

If you’d prefer a daily river walk, Reflections on the Fox River and Beyond by Sondra Sula, might just be the book for you.

Ever-Changing Life

The day was ever changing. Cloudy and drained of color one moment, sunny and bright the next. This outer undulation moved inward causing me to feel both hopeless and hopeful.

I entered a field of taupe: tall dry grasses and thistle. Death mixed with the promise of new life in each seed. Starry thistle seeds brought to mind the question: for what do I wish? With one puff of breath two seeds were airborne seeking fresh beginnings.

As I followed their trajectory I saw a ladybug exploring a spent flowerhead. Ladybug, ladybug, fly away home. But where is home? I wondered silently. Has home become anywhere I am?

Can home be on a precipice, looking down at the rocks below? Do I need to feel comfortable with unease?

This could become an endless rabbit hole, I reasoned when I stumbled across an actual hole in the ground. But as I faced the darkness and mystery of the unknown, a thought came to me: perhaps this hole contains the very thistle seeds that blew away. Maybe the darkness is a restorative resting place facilitating the process of germination.

When I stood up, I noticed some flowers in full bloom being harvested of their pollen by various winged creatures. This was the flip side of darkness—seeds that had germinated, grown, matured and were ready to share their bounty. Perhaps home is a cycle, an undulation, an ever-changing life.

Photos © Sondra Sula.

If you like these blogs, you’ll most likely enjoy my daily devotional book, Meditations on Mendocino by Sondra Sula. Available on Amazon in paperback or Kindle versions.