white arrows point to my block–first on left, second row
I’m pretty sure my heels left ruts in the red clay when my husband’s transfer pulled us from the Georgia pines to the Florida palms. I was quite happy nestled in my Southern belle box with my magnolia blossoms and sweet tea. With the help of a Country Living featured decorator, I’d finally feathered a comfortable nest, and the thought of abandoning it to renters for 18 months precipitated a major meltdown. I did not want to be uprooted again, and I refused to go.
Then I remembered the words to the Song of Ruth sung at our wedding: “Where you go, I will go; and where you lodge, I will lodge.”
I knew I had to make a choice. I could either continue to rebel and whine. I could resign myself to misery. Or, since I couldn’t erase these marriage-carved lines, I could embrace them and find a way to re-create some beauty within them.
I’m writing today over at The High Calling as we continue to discuss the book, Life after Art: What You Forgot about Life and Faith since You Left the Art Room . . .
Won’t you join me here as I share how I learned to color within the lines?
Still coloring,
Sandy
