The Light leads to life.
Eighteen months ago, when trilliums carpeted forest floors, the heart doctor told me to stop taking hikes in the woods; my heart couldn't take the strenuous activity. It was hard news to digest. He really wasn't sure any surgeon could do what my heart needed.
For four months I was attached to oxygen and during those months I grieved that I was not able to hike in the woods.
When I arrived home after 80 days in ICU, I had strength enough to climb four stairs, one slow step after the other. The winter was so frigid, my oxygen line would freeze, but I had set a goal to get out into the great outdoors for I truly believed it would help my physical and emotional recovery.
Putting one foot in front of the other is all you have to do to move forward. There are dips and set-back that feel like giants leap backward, but one step at a time is how you run in this race of life.
Always looking unto Jesus; the Everlasting Light
Last week, the cardiologist said my heart should be able to handle small hikes once again. Slow and steady. One small step at a time.
Who could have ever imagined all those many moons ago that I would take my first nature hike with my family on a first week of November—so warm that it may break records? The sun kissed our faces today and we breathed in the musty fallen leaves that now carpet the ground.
We looked high into the bare branches and low at the moss covering the rocks. We listened as the brook babbled. We slowed down and focused on the beauty all around us. We gratefully received the sheer grace of it all.
I came home weary and refreshed. Hushed. Exhilerated. Humbled.
God's mercy is ever new. His faithfulness never fails.
The Little One gives thanks at the dinner table today. She thanks God for the hike, for her family, all the things He has made—the flowers, the birds, all creation. And all these months have passed and she still mutters thanks for: "the Doctor who helped my beautiful Mom so she could take care of me. She loves me so much. Thank you for being with her in the hospital to save her life."
I whisper, Amen, humbled once again.
His Light leads me on. One step of faith at a time.
To be outdoors in a great wood, capturing my children running free under a canopy of trees, climbing old mills, and shaking trees to make leaves fall like rain was absolute grace that flows steady from the hand of God.}