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Today is the first day of my vacation and although I still have a newsletter article to write, a strategic plan to update and a grant to review before I can sign off :/, I had to take some time to honor Dad’s one year memorial.

I read through the dates scribbled in the margin of my journal this morning and realized that since 2013, June 29th would often be a day of leaving the Island.

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On June 29th 2013, Dad and Joanie drove home, and I stayed on for a few more days alone—I wrote. Sam kept me company. It was the year writing would begin to absorb my creative impulses as dance once had. Movement began to find itself in the rolling rhythms created by my words instead of my limbs. Music would be discovered in the sounds of nature—whispers of wind and waves lulled me into the silent place. The sun’s light on the water’s surface and sweeping golden grass began to draw me into mysteries around and within waiting to be discovered, as I allowed my mind and heart to open up to them.

The testing and training during the years that followed were intense—weaknesses were revealed and magnified, failures seemed to multiply—and slowly, humility would begin to replace pride. And over the span of those four years, I would write my first book.

God’s way is not the easy way. Lips that speak knowledge are a rare jewel. An inheritance gained quickly will not be blessed in the end. He trains and tests one step at a time according to His Word, not according to my plan. He provides what is needed to take the next step when the time is right and His Lamp searches our inner most beings (Proverbs 20:15, 21, 24, 27), often unhinging us.

I prayed that God’s message would spread and be honored. I wrote from my heart and I posted (unabashedly) what I wrote. I was the fidgety sparrow flapping after the soaring seagulls.

On June 29th 2014, I posted Dad’s German Spaghetti recipe so I guess we were still on the Island that year, but on June 29th 2015, Dad, Joanie and I drove back together after celebrating my 60th birthday. Then on June 29th 2016, Jesus brought His angels and took Dad home. Dad’s work on earth was done—patience developed, anger released and replaced with abiding trust and love.

I am learning to travel that path one step at a time—one foot guides to surrender, the other reminds that with Him all things are possible. Then—I’m learning—to leave it with Him and trust that His Will will indeed be my joy.

Leaving a place you love is never easy. I miss Dad every day, but I’ve learned over these years, that heading home can be a very Good thing.

Ferry (2)

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