For the past few days I’ve been in Florida with my family.
Although I moved away at 18, Florida is still home.
Florida will, in many ways, always be home.
And home can heal.
Every morning I’ve been going for a walk before the sun sets fire.
I don’t know if you know this, but Florida is hot.
It is also weird.
And fantastic.

I haven’t been listening to music or podcasts as I walk between the shadows and sun.
I’ve just been walking quietly and slowly.
I’m not focused on getting steps or tracking miles, I’m just moving forward.

Every now and again I’ll say something to God and then I’ll walk in the silence.
There is a lot to be thankful for today, just like yesterday and tomorrow.
And there are a lot of questions, just like yesterday and probably tomorrow.
But in the slow morning walks I am coming alive, almost as if I am being reunited with myself.

That sounds strange, but that’s what it feels like.

I am remembering what is good and letting go of what needs to be let go of.
I’m finding clarity in the quiet and peace in His promises.
I’m waking up slowly.
And that’s how I’m moving forward.
Slowly.

Away with the stillness is when I remember who I am.
I let the answers catch up to my questions
and I let my questions embrace the answers.
It’s like it is Spring in my soul
and I can see grace growing and beauty blooming.
In the middle of another exhale
I can feel life return to my bones
as I watch the heaviness leave my heart.
Again, I’m finally breathing and being.
And I cannot help but wonder
why I don’t get away with myself more often.
Why don’t I escape the noise and enter the silence?
Why don’t I turn off the notifications and simply be?

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