Chasing Blue Skies

encouragement for every season of life

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I had coffee with a friend yesterday, and we both

I had coffee with a friend yesterday, and we both lamented how our respective seasons have left us dog-tired and just plain WEARY. Like, climbing-up-Pike’s-Peak weary. And doing so on our hands and knees. In the winter. With a hungry bear and mountain lion tailing us.

Several days ago, I received two separate messages from friends whose kiddos were in the hospital. (What we all wouldn’t do, I know, to put ourselves in the crosshairs of struggle if it spared our kids from it.) One of them is home now and recovering well, thankfully. But the other, a sparkling, stunning 19-year-old named Meghan, is at Walter Reed for double pneumonia after complications from COVID. Would you please say a prayer for her?

And if you’re bone-tired yourself today and/or have a prayer request, leave it below. You can be sure that I’ll pray for you and yours. (And I bet others here will, too.) 💛

I belong where the front yard trees are evergreen,

I belong where the front yard trees are evergreen, where the trusty ol’ minivan still gets the job done, and where the porch isn’t fancy but more than fine.

Where do you belong today?

#backroadstobelonging
#whereIbelongWednesday

“Jesus repled, ‘You don’t understand now wha

“Jesus repled, ‘You don’t understand now what I am doing, but someday you will.’” ~John 13:7

Someday, we’ll get why things happen as they do. The Message translation says, “ . . .it will be clear enough to you later.” Perhaps this is how we see when we can’t see anything at all. Perhaps this is how we rest in the season we’re in today.

Last week was somethin’ else, BUT it included a

Last week was somethin’ else, BUT it included a scheduled visit to the aspens with my #wingwoman @aimeehpowell to take some pics. Aimée, like the boss lady she is, traversed size 00 mountain roads behind the wheel, stopping as I repeatedly jumped out of the car to click the shudder. I added to our itinerary or switched it up no less than 57 times, and not once did she roll her eyes or act put out. At one point, I pulled together a good-sized stack of aspen leaves, and she cared for them like they comprised a newborn baby. In the evening, we ate soup and drank wine and watched Selling Sunset, the latter which probably made us a little dumber yet a lot happier for all the laughing.

Aimée helped stop me from sliding down a literal mountain (Oh, what we’ll do for our art!) and a figurative one comprised of why-can’t-things-be-different thoughts. The light and trees were thick and painted like golden honey, but the friendship tasted sweetest of all.

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