The smell of fresh-washed earth fills my nostrils, soft breezes caressing my cheek, chilly air electric with the anticipation of a new season.
The gray sky kisses the dark limbs of the tree branches where golden leaves are falling and leaving barren bones.
Muddy hearts meld as we talk long and deep. Heart meets hurts, hard meets soft and we become a glorious mess in the moment.
Children’s chatter surrounds me, laughing loud and mixed with the sound of rustling trees and rushing creek water.
Stilettos come off and my toes sink into the mud as the long grass dances around me.
“Mama! Hold me!” I reach down and realize, THIS is where I belong, where I find God. This is my church.