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Thriving


There are sacred moments—
quiet, unannounced—
when I feel the subtle shift within me,
a gentle tug at my awareness
asking me to take inventory
of the life I’ve arranged around my soul.


So, quarterly,
I let my gaze linger—
not just seeing, but sensing—
tracing the energy of my space,
searching for what still 

breathes life into me,
what still glows without effort,
what still feels like home.


Because I’ve learned—
as a creative and feeler of currents—
misalignment is no small disturbance.


It is a quiet tremble beneath the ribs,
a sacred unraveling that sends me
into sudden rituals of release:
weeding, shedding, discarding
what no longer knows how to love me back.


Not long ago,
I turned my plants toward the south—
toward a more generous sun—
and offered them water 

drawn from cleaner intentions.


And baby…
they answered.


Leaves lifted like open hands in praise,
stems swaying in slow, worship rhythm—
a choir of green harmony 
singing sunlight into my personal sanctuary.


I stood there, witnessing—
heart cracked just enough to whisper:
I want that kind of thriving, too.


So in the quiet of morning,
I met myself in stillness.


Breathing in the language of leaves,
exhaling the residue of all I’ve outgrown.


And I remembered—
I am allowed to step away.


To become the mirror 

of my own quiet restoration.


A pause.
A sacred interruption.
A sabbatical of the soul
to gather the scattered pieces of me
and call them home.


So, Lord—
root me deeper than fear,
anchor me in what is true.
Center me in the gravity of Your love,
steady my steps in the rhythm of Your word,
and teach me—
not just to survive—
but to rise, 

to bloom, 

to become…

thriving.


Not the kind that begs for light,
but the kind that remembers
it was born from it.


Not the kind that fears the pruning,
but the kind that understands
every cutting makes room for more life.


Let me be steadfast in my healing,
unyielding in my becoming,
soft where I once hardened,
and open where I once hid.


Until my life—
in all its quiet corners 

and loud awakenings—
sings back to You
like sun-soaked leaves in sacred motion:

I am here.
I am whole.
I am thriving on purpose

with a love that overflows.







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