anchor of my trust

I spent the day with my gal-pal, Saint Faustina Kowalska, yesterday. It was her Feast Day, so I snuck away (alone) for the day to my happy place and immersed myself in the joy of having her in my life.

For those who have been faithful visitors to my blog you know there are posts littered throughout this space about her! (Inner Silence, This is not a Test, All about Helen to name just a few!)

Every time I spend a moment with her – grace spills out mercifully – all over me. Today, as I share a few of my favorite excerpts from her Diary, may it reign down upon you too.

Continue reading “anchor of my trust”

down the rabbit hole

It’s time to get Real, people!

Blmaluso, creator of the wonderful somebodylovesmeblog, reminded me recently what Becoming Real means. I’ve woven together excerpts from her most recent blog post with a personal picture guide, in an effort to take you through these past few months while I have been away.

“Real isn’t how you are made,’ said the Skin Horse. ‘It’s a thing that happens to you. When a child loves you for a long, long time, not just to play with, but REALLY loves you, then you become Real.’

‘Does it hurt?’ asked the Rabbit.  

‘Sometimes,’ said the Skin Horse, for he was always truthful. ‘When you are Real you don’t mind being hurt.’

‘Does it happen all at once, like being wound up,’ he asked, ‘or bit by bit?’

‘It doesn’t happen all at once,’ said the Skin Horse. ‘You become. It takes a long time. That’s why it doesn’t happen often to people who break easily, or have sharp edges, or who have to be carefully kept.

Generally, by the time you are Real, most of your hair has been loved off, and your eyes drop out and you get loose in the joints and very shabby. But these things don’t matter at all, because once you are Real you can’t be ugly, except to people who don’t understand.”
― Margery Williams BiancoThe Velveteen Rabbit

Do we understand what “real” love really is? 

Do we truly understand?

Continue reading “down the rabbit hole”

pockets

it’s the monday giggles…

A two year old referred to her pockets

as snack holes.

And this is

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