“You need to write.” My eyes blinked at the woman sitting next to me at the pastoral gathering. She was like me in a way, but further along the journey. We had both moved from our homes in other countries to plant our families on the black sand shores of Iceland. This island straddled across two continents that held the beautiful tension of Fire and Ice.
“Week 6: Task #5. Send postcards to five friends.” That was the assignment. That’s where it all began. Well, sort of. Intentionally reaching out to encourage loved ones or to let them know they were on my mind and ask how I could pray for them had been a regular habit for several years. But usually only by text.
“You’re holding up people’s deliverance,” my spiritual director said recently, in response to all the hesitancy and resistance I was feeling about offering myself to God’s work in the world. The words hit deep. They were both convicting and empowering.
Sometimes on the road to loving ourselves, we encounter negative thoughts that tell us that we’re unworthy of God’s affection, that we aren’t smart enough, that we aren’t good enough, or just that we aren’t enough.
Evening walks with my six-year-old daughter have quickly become a favorite way to unwind from the day and reset my stride. Seeing the wind blow through her bright blonde baby fine hair and feeling her sweaty little fingers wrap tightly with mine helps ground me. We kick rocks as we stroll along, take notice of the birds in the sky, occasionally assemble a roadside bouquet of wildflowers, and make chit chat of the day. It’s a joy to spend time with her bearing the heart and soul gift of being present with one another.