We wake and check the news and, yes, the world is still in chaos. A low grade something simmers within. We choose not to walk in fear and we seek reputable news sources but there’s no denying things are churning.
We make jokes (some memes had us chuckling out loud last night before bed) and shake our heads at the craziness. We bump fists and elbows, self isolate and socially distance, and maybe feeling like we have no control scares us most of all.
We lean in, lean hard, and listen to the still voice of timeless and eternal truth. We write a poem or read one (here’s a good one I came across this morning). We pray.
We practice gratitude and pass the peace and ask for wisdom.
March is a roaring, raging lion this year. A pandemic, crashing markets, political chaos—a trifecta of discontent. We could easily get tangled up.
But I believe in poetry and prayer and that we’ve never had the control we like to think we have.
Another day begins. Love well, my friends. Love well.
Control is an illusion, I agree. God is sovereign, my source of calm, a “constant correction” thought in these chaotic times.
My tulips are beginning to droop, so I’m concentrating on my 28-orchid bloom now.