I’m resuming my blog called: “Word and Image” after a two year hiatus. Some of you are reading this for the first time  … Welcome!

My last blog on May 03, 2019 with the title: “Things Are Not Always Clear” was the end of a season and the earliest transition of a nine month journey that culminated in my husband’s joy of healing from a medical event in July of 2019 and the anticipation of having our small family gathering for the Christmas holiday in Denver and welcoming a new member to the clan … our youngest son’s fiancee.

In January of 2020 I was diagnosed with breast cancer, had a mastectomy in February and a week later my husband Dave, who now had advanced prostate cancer, stayed with his sister in Kansas. Covid 19 realities had entered our reality as well as everyone else’s.

We were reunited by the end of March and were able to spend some precious weeks together realizing that a new journey was beginning where we would be separating. After a 4 week home hospice journey, he died peacefully, surrounded by family.

That’s the story in a nutshell and I’ve been writing this blog in my head and heart and mind in myriad ways. Finally on June 12, the one year anniversary of Dave’s death, I was at peace that things were clearer, and that I am now in a new season of the “Grace of New Beginnings,” a phrase that I first read in a book called: “Celtic Benediction; Morning and Evening Prayers” by Phillip Newell.

I am grateful for this season. I’m currently cancer free; have grieved well with the support of so many; and am finding in this grief journey a freedom and joy in God’s provision and timing. From Psalm 31 verse 15, a beautiful reminder … David the Psalmist talking to God: “my time is in your hands.”

One of the best life changing gifts post mastectomy, is that I became a morning person, with no effort of my own. I just started waking up around 5-6 a.m. every morning. That led to a slow resumption of walking every day and became my physical and mental health anchor in stormy times.

We each have phrases and habits that we remember and often turn to in times of transition. One that I remember, was from my high school English teacher who posted a new phrase every Monday:  “The journey a thousand miles begins with one step.”

I’ve stepped back on the path to explore and live the unfinished story with new habits and am happy to be back to “offer insight and encouragement in life’s transitions.”

Today’s image, the poppy, is a flower that I’ve photographed often. The gossamer petals, and tall stems sway in the breeze in clusters with other poppies and are difficult to capture. On a morning walk recently, I realized that the story I was trying to tell was about one poppy, surrounded by community, but distinctive in its beauty and dancing in the moment offering joy to those who choose to see and engage.

Ingrid (IBK)