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Simplify. {2008}
Simplify. {2009}
Simplify. {2010}
Believe. {2011}
Grace. {2012}
Restore {2013}
Listen (Silent) {2014}

I am definitely not the same girl. I am less of her and more of her.

I listened. I did. More than ever. I was silent when I wanted to speak and I sat in silence and listened to messages meant for my soul.

I fought inwardly and outwardly–wanting to shed the negative, but finding the comfort of negativity a strange bedfellow. I think in the end, though, I have risen up and become a more loving person.

A lifetime of healing happened this year. I’ve revisited previous posts where I’ve said that I’m not sure complete healing can happen for me.

It has happened.

It was excruciatingly hard at times. I lost some friends along the way and accidentally drove others away with my cumbersome plodding through this new territory. I suppose it all works out as it should and I’m done forcing things.

2014 feels so far away.

For once, I’m entering into a new year with no trepidation–only excitement! (and I can’t wait for my 2015 word to find me!!)

Help for a Friend

Almost 75% funded at 7:47pm central time on December 10, 2014!!!!!!!!
64% at 4:02pm!!!!
57% as of 3:50pm central time!
Update!! 50% as of 2:52pm central time!!!!!
Update: over 42% funded in just a few hours!!

Update: Over 20% funded in just one hour! You guys are AMAZING!!! Let’s do this!!

Friends, I need your help. I believe in connecting people and I think I’m good at it. I wouldn’t put this out there if I doubted the legitimacy of this– I know deep in my heart that this is an intense and immediate need. I’m going to give you a short version of a long story, but enough that you’ll understand why I want to do what I can to help, which includes asking you to help me help this family. So in the spirit of this season, can we help this family with a little kindness after what they’ve been through and are still going through? (who am I kidding? I *know* we can do this!!)


My friend’s son has several disorders and in order to protect her son I’m going to be general about his medical history and I’m going to call him Joey. Joey has some issues and the family has dealt accordingly. Recently though, Joey was involved in a serious accident that might have been a suicide attempt. He had a lot of medical issues stemming from this. He is currently in long term rehab with post accident traumatic brain injury and will be hospitalized until February.

As if that’s not serious enough, the poor boy was molested (pre-accident) by a deacon in his church–who just so happened to be his godfather, and Joey’s mom thinks this is what pushed him to go off the deep end. After telling the church and the police, it was discovered this deacon/godfather was actually a registered sex offender. After a lot of time, Joey had to testify against this man. I don’t know all the details, whether or not the man was hiding his sexual offender status or what, that’s not the important part. Here’s the part I need you to help me with.

The man took a plea bargain which spares Joey a long, victim-blaming trial, and in his condition, this is really for the best. The family needs to make an 800 mile round trip to give victim impact statements to hopefully sway the judge into giving this disgusting human being a much harsher sentence.

The family needs to rent a car because they don’t have a car that will make an 800 mile trip and they don’t have a credit card, so they’ll have to put down a deposit. They need gas, food, and lodging for the whirlwind trip. They’ll leave their home, drive 400 miles, stay over, appear before the judge the next day and then head back home, hopefully with news that this man will be locked up for a really long time. I’m thinking $700 is an amount that will allow them to get this trip done and put behind them so they can focus on healing.

**some of you know this family and have been praying for “Joey,” have seen the news articles and photos of Joey in the first days after the accident, and have been cheering him on in his miraculous recovery. If you recognize this story, please keep the family’s real names silent. The molestation is something the family hasn’t talked about, understandably so, and would like to protect their son as much as possible. I’ve been given permission to tell this part of the story because it’s integral to the trip.

Helping Friends for Thanksgiving

Last year, my heart broke for several of my friends and their families. Five families I knew personally could not provide Thanksgiving dinners. So I decided to help. We raised enough to give each family nearly double the amount I set to give and then helped a sixth family with a smaller gift.

This year, I want to do that again. There are three families this year that I have in mind, none of them know I’m doing this. My goal is to raise $450 to give each of them $150 for groceries.

I KNOW we can do this!!!

I’ll update this page as we go!

As of 7:26 11/2, we’re OVER goal!!!! WE DID IT!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! We have an extra $85 to give to an additional family. A friend’s sister is in a really hard spot right now, so we’ll be giving the extra to her family!
As of 10:37 11/20, we’re up to $305!!
As of 9:18am 11/20, we’re up to $275!!
As of 8:11am 11/20, we’re up to $175!!
As of 12:54pm central time 11/19, we’re up to $135!!
As of 12:50pm central time 11/19, we’re up to $115!!

If you’re wondering how I decide who to surprise? I simply pay attention. People typically won’t ask for help. Status updates over months and months are clues to me. I can see when a family has had a bad run of luck, but they’re humble enough to keep their chins up and live in the positive moments of life. We all fall on hard times–well, most of us do, anyway.

Build Your Immunity

Your immune system is your best defense. You can exert positive energy and avoid the fear-porn being pumped into your system. I’m not a doctor, but I am my best health advocate and it’d be in your best interest to take control of your choices and your body to minimize risk of getting sick.

1. Make your food at home from real food ingredients. Stop eating processed foods, fast foods, and pre-made foods. I’ll even help you! I’m offering my ecookbook free this weekend.

2. Read up and take supplements for your immune system. D3, C, Selenium, A, B’s, E, Zinc.

3. Read up and take some herbs and spices to boost your immune system: echinacea, ginseng, turmeric, garlic, cayenne. (Our favorite is a shot of apple cider vinegar with a couple cloves of minced organic garlic, cayenne, turmeric, and local honey.)

4. Get regular sleep and sleep well. Magnesium oil can help you fall asleep faster and sleep deeper.

5. Drink lots of water. Stay hydrated.

6. Switch from table salt to Himalayan pink salt.

7. Wash your hands often and stop sticking your hands in your mouth and eyes.

8. Get your gut health in order. Brew and drink water kefir–it’s full of probiotics that help your body and your immune system.

9. Open your windows.

10. Take daily walks.

Rustic Gluten Free Cover 1 final

Saturday-Monday my cookbook is free for you if you’d like to make that change first. If you contact me, I will even give you two weeks of menu plans with grocery lists.

Twenty Years and We Still Love (and Like!) Each Other

I knew I’d grow old with this man. What I didn’t know was how we’d get to that point without killing each other.

We’ve had some rough years—like almost all of them. Of the twenty years we’ve been together, I can count five that were (what I would consider) good years, but even in those “good” years, my mother died, his step-father died, and my dad was diagnosed with terminal cancer. So maybe good and bad are labels we shouldn’t apply to the years. Are there people out there who live a year, any year, without hard things happening? Maybe. I don’t know. That’s not how our life looks.

Michelle  (73)

I spent the first twenty years of my life in one place and seven months after I met Phil, I packed everything I had and moved to Missouri with him. We lived in his mom’s attic. She wasn’t fond of me. His step-father liked me less and his grandmother wouldn’t even call me by my name for the first five years we were together. While living there, we had the most horrible knock-down-drag-out-roll-in-the-mud fight. I almost left him. We had so much mud in our clothes, we had to throw them away. And Phil’s wardrobe isn’t cheap. On our anniversary one year, Phil’s mom gave me the earring I’d lost in her yard while rolling around fighting.

We moved in with a friend of Phil’s after a fight between his parents and him. It was a dilapidated, filthy place. Then I found what I thought was the perfect place for us. A mobile home on quite a few acres and the owner who rented to us would give Phil hunting rights. The place was full of mice. Phil played roof pinball with his cattle prod and we’d spend hours laughing at the ting-ting-ting sound of the mice bouncing off the inside of the tin roof. While we lived in that place, we had the absolute worst fight of our entire marriage. I was working eighty hours a week and exhaustion doesn’t even come close to explaining how tired I was. I got home one night and thought he was sleeping, but he was at the kitchen table, in the dark, drinking whiskey. I still remember every moment of that night. As was my defense from having been physically abused by my dad, I resorted to physical fighting and it really didn’t end well for me. I was leaving him that time. But I didn’t have the money to drive back to Indiana and I needed to wait until payday. We ended up talking and making promises to each other that were very difficult to keep, but we kept them.

Phil was an alcoholic and I was the daughter of a physically abusive man, a co-dependent woman, and the granddaughter of an alcoholic who lived across the alley from us with her father who sexually abused me. Phil’s biological dad died when Phil was just a year old, his mom was 17, his step-father was physically abusive, and Phil had his first child at 16 as well. I was an alcoholic, though I wouldn’t admit it and had pretty well quit drinking by then.

The dysfunction was normal to us.


After the fight that nearly ended us, we decided that we wanted to make things work. We’d not threaten to leave each other, we wouldn’t call each other names, and when we fought and argued, it would be fair. None of that is easy to do.

We made a decision to drive a semi over the road together because if Phil was driving a truck, he wasn’t drinking. That was likely one of the best decisions we made together. Those were years spent working very hard. Like you travel inside your city, we traveled our nation. We’d be in Jersey one day and LA two days later and then El Paso a day or so later. He drove while I slept and I drove while he slept. We had two meals a day together. We lived in a space the size of a small bathroom for six weeks at a time (and then I’d have to get off the truck to save us from destroying each other.)

His children were so young during this time. The situation with his ex-wife is what you can imagine a situation with an ex-wife is like. Things were constantly stressful. We didn’t get to see the kids near as much as we wanted to and the trucking lifestyle isn’t conducive to a white-picket-fence-happy-ending family life. And we’d decided that we’d like to try to get pregnant. I came off the road, we bought our own semi, our own mobile home on an acre of hay field (hello mice!) and I did get pregnant. But fuel prices shot up over $3/gallon for the first time in history and Phil was driving that stupid truck twenty-nine out of every thirty days and for six months I was in Missouri with no money, no gas in my vehicle, with a newborn who didn’t know his daddy, with a mother-in-law who drove within a mile of my house five days a week but only stopped once in six months for fifteen minutes. The only food I had was the food WIC allowed. I was afraid to drive anywhere because I had only enough gas in my vehicle for one trip to the emergency room in case something happened. Our refrigerated semi trailer broke down and Phil was home for a week (thank God!) but in that week, we accumulated an additional $10,000 in debt from him not working. I chose to breastfeed and had issues pumping because of a rare enzyme problem so we decided that I’d stay home. Between newborn Zane screaming and clinging constantly and bill collectors calling non-stop and Phil being gone, I was going insane.

We had to file bankruptcy on the truck, (which showed up on my credit record as a $150k Mercedes because Mercedes owns Freightliner) and move back to Indiana with my parents. Phil had to get a different job. He was home two days a week and gone five. I was overjoyed. I also had to get a job which only lasted two weeks because my mother, who volunteered to watch Zane, couldn’t handle him screaming all day, every day while I was gone. September 11 happened and changed the whole face of the trucking industry. Those were such uncertain days.

We found a duplex and Phil found a good-paying job hauling fuel. He was home daily! Granted, he was working 5pm-5am and sleeping most of the day, but he was home. We found out we sharing the walls of our duplex with a convicted child molester, though, and I couldn’t be there with a new baby and Phil being gone so much.

We then bought a house and for a few years, things seemed ok, but what I didn’t know was that my health was going down the drain. Phil’s grandma died, my uncle committed suicide, my best friend died, Phil’s grandfather died, my grandma died, Phil’s other grandma died, I was sleeping nineteen out of twenty-four hours and didn’t know why. Phil thought he had a heart attack while I was across the country taking care of my dying best friend. I rushed home to find out the company he worked for fired him for having heart issues that turned out to not be heart issues but a problem with a medication with a rare side effect that mimicked angina. He found a different job making considerably less and we started getting behind on bills to the point that I received a home foreclosure notice. Nothing we did kept our heads above water. We didn’t qualify for any help because of the amount of money he made in the previous job. We couldn’t afford to see his kids in Missouri and it broke our hearts daily.


We had a heated argument one morning. He was working midnights and went to bed while we were still yelling at each other. I picked up his cowboy boot and threw it at the wall behind him, next to his face. I played softball. I knew it wouldn’t hit him. What I didn’t know is that the heel of the boot would stick in the wall anchoring the whole boot in place close enough to Phil’s face that when he turned to look at it beside him, his nose nearly touched the boot.

In another fight, Phil punched the wall. Only he punched the stud and the nails in the stud. He had to have surgery to fix his broken bones and was off work for nearly two months.


We ended up filing bankruptcy a second time. I’d made all kinds of deals with creditors, doing voluntary repossessions and the like. More than two years after I’d made arrangements and kept my end of the deal, my creditors sold our debt to junk debt collectors and we were served over $40k in lawsuits in one week. There was no other choice but a second bankruptcy. Phil left the trucking industry for a property manager position at a private resort. We had about nine months of enough—enough money, enough food, enough time together, enough friends visiting, things were pleasant and content. Then we found out my mom had a 5cm brain tumor, lymphoma and his step-father had a tumor the size of a baseball wrapped around his spine. My mom died within eight weeks and his step-father lived a year. Phil was fired from that job after an emergency room worthy asthma attack that had him on bedrest for a full week. We had thirty days to vacate our home on the property. We were homeless and jobless and heartbroken and my health was still failing. Then my dad was diagnosed with terminal cancer.

After almost two years of Phil working nearly eighteen hours a day, we found the job he’s currently working. Compared to the abundant days of us driving team and grossing $250k a year and fuel hauling bringing home $120k gross, we’re currently living on $52k gross a year. That’s a lot of income to lose. He’s been at this new job, in another new city, for nearly two years now.


We’ve lost income, houses, semis, cars, trucks. We watched so many of our close family and friends die. We’ve moved about every two years. We’ve had a lot of bad things happen to us and around us.

I wrote all of that out because people believe we’ve had it easy. That the relationship we have is fake. That the love we share is nothing but a facade, a show.


This relationship was forged in dysfunction, dipped in a hard life, and sprinkled with tragedy. We could choose to focus on that.

But we didn’t.

We met in a traffic jam on August 7, 1994 and fell instantly and crazy in love. Later that week, we talked for fourteen hours on the phone. We talked about a shared vision we both had of us sitting together on a porch swing, gray in our hair, coffee in our hand, smelling bacon cooking while watching the sun rise over a field. We even knew it was a red house. (We saw that vision come true in 2009) He was at a newly built hotel and the desk clerk mistakenly charged him for fourteen minutes instead of fourteen hours. At the end of that phone call, we had to hold back saying, “I love you.”

I moved to Missouri with him seven months later and learned a more laid back country lifestyle. We went swimming in crystal clear streams, fishing in some of the best bass-fishing lakes in the country. We roamed dirt roads for hours, my bare feet on the dash, head leaning on him. We had sex outside at scenic overlooks and in the woods and under overpasses. We traveled the country together and saw sights most people only see in pictures. I got to stop every morning and watch the sun rise and take pictures of that. I got to travel across the desert during a meteor shower and count hundreds of shooting stars. We walked the San Antonio River Walk together. We saw Maine in all of its autumn splendor. We were gifted boxes of Florida oranges fresh off the tree and long stem roses just cut. We watched the sun set over the Rockies. We saw mule deer migrations in Wyoming. We stopped at Snake River in Idaho. At Multnomah Falls in Oregon. At the Columbia River Gorge. On top of Donner Pass. At Lake Tahoe. Amarillo. The Brooklyn Bridge. The Smoky Mountains. Flagstaff. Reno. Vegas. Monterey. We watched hundreds of hot air balloons in the sky over Albuquerque. I led an honest-to-God real convoy across the bottom of Texas. We ate real etouffee in Louisiana. We saw the Black Hills, the Appalachian mountains, the Adirondacks. We drove over Hoover Dam. We saw the Mississippi River flood, we were in Hurricane Andrew. We experienced a windstorm on Needles in California that shut the interstate down for nearly twenty-four hours. We saw tornadoes in the midwest and fourteen feet of snow on Donner pass.

We bought our own place and the water was the best water I’ve ever had. My garden was the biggest and best I’ve ever had. I preserved food to my heart’s content. We had a baby. We had family who loved us enough to help us when we were in dire circumstances. I met one of the best friends of my life during that time.

We experienced a healing with my family. A healing with Phil’s family. We’ve helped people heal. Given advice, taken them in, fed them, loved them. People come to us for life and marital advice constantly. We worked to restore my health. We eat well. We exercise. We go and do and we hardly ever sit still. We cook together, we eat together, we go to sleep together (and I wake up first, hours before him.) We don’t think of ourselves first, we think of each other first. He’s not my boss. If there’s a decision to be made, we both make it. If one of us has a hesitation about something, we talk about it and the idea that his opinion is weightier than mine doesn’t exist. We both have strengths. If he says the brakes in the car need to be changed, I don’t argue. If I say we need to be more mindful of our budget, he doesn’t bitch and moan. If we can’t afford the vacation we dream, we do something else and we make the best of it. Always. We always always always make the best of things.

We’ve had the most abundant gardens, the best of friends, we’ve laughed way more than we’ve cried. We’ve always made the choice to look beyond the current bad thing happening. When we were monetarily poor beyond belief, we worked in our garden together. When we were down, we’d sit and talk. We don’t watch much TV. We have sex every three days (or sooner.) I have never once told him no. I don’t have to. When he knows something is wrong with me, that I don’t feel good, that I’m sad, he doesn’t ask because he respects me enough. I usually end up offering because I want him to know I respect him that much as well.

We made a commitment all those years ago and made it priority. No circumstance or situation was ever more important than us and our kids. We don’t change each other, we grow together. We foster healthy relationships by living mentally healthy lives. We encourage each other’s dreams and help make them possible for the other in any way we can. We have priorities that we’ve set. He works, I homeschool our son and take care of our home. Now that Zane’s older, I’m pursuing the dreams I mistakenly believed were not possible. When I was very young, people told me I couldn’t be an artist. But I am. And Phil supports that fully.


We’ve worked fucking hard for this twenty years and I wouldn’t change a single moment of it.

June 7

Four years ago, I didn’t think I’d make through any June 7th without crying.

I didn’t know such deep healing could occur in my life. I actually didn’t believe I could be healed inside my head. I thought I’d always carry around the abuse. Spiritual, sexual, physical, mental.

June 1 was my best friend’s birthday. She’s been gone six years now. I didn’t cry on June 1st. I didn’t feel sad. I thought about her with such a supernatural peace that I actually thought it was a fluke. When the sweat lodge ceremony I was looking forward to was cancelled, I did cry. It was to be a very symbolic ceremony for me. The lodge represents the womb and you come out spiritually new. Considering all the healing I’ve been doing, the fact that the ceremony was to be held today, on the anniversary of my mom’s death, I thought that was important to my healing. After I received news of the cancellation, I asked if something else could be done. Hawkwoman volunteered to facilitate a drum circle. But this huge rain system was moving in and I was pretty certain we’d have to cancel. But we went. And it didn’t rain.


I had decided I wouldn’t mention the significance of the date unless a clear opportunity presented itself. After a hour or so, Hawkwoman sang a prayer and after she mentioned mourning. So I mentioned the date and that led me to share some things that I’m not quite ready to share here. Phil and two others know the story, it deals with birth and death and it is, I believe, the pinnacle of my healing story.

A buck came out to say hello to me as well as a few crows.

Two and half hours later, after many gratitudes, prayers, offerings, and relaxation, it started drizzling.

And then it was a monsoon-type downpour.


When I got home, I was soaked. I changed then grabbed the pics off my camera and sat down to blog this. I texted my brother to find out how he was doing today. I think he’s ok. He asked how I was and I told him about the drumming circle and the rain.

“Tears from heaven.”


I didn’t have to cry, I didn’t need to cry, and it wasn’t just a fluke.

It’s real and I didn’t believe it could ever happen.




Drumming and Healing

It started when a friend told me about EFT (emotional freedom technique or tapping.) The skeptic inside me said it was BS, but the other side of me said if it works, let’s try it. I read about it and watched this video and started tapping. And it works.

That led to research about drumming and healing. I downloaded some Native American drumming music and I’d lay on my bed with my earbuds in, and words fail to describe the peace and rejuvenation I felt.



Last night, I had the opportunity to attend a live drumming circle at Prairiewoods. Our facilitator  was Hawkwoman. She brought some of her own drums, but Prairiewoods also has a wide variety of drums in their library. She took me to the library and the tops of all of the shelves were lined with drums of all colors and sizes.  Three others were in the room picking theirs. Hawkwoman told me to let the drum choose me. I looked at all of them not knowing how to do that, but I was drawn to a blue ceramic based drum in the left corner of the room. The others chose their drums and a gentleman named Luke asked if I wanted him to get one down for me. I nodded yes. He asked which and I said, “I don’t know.” He went straight for that blue one, grabbed it, drummed on it a few times, and said, “Yep. This is it. This is the one for you.”

We went back outside with our drums that chose us, gathered round a fire. I took off my shoes and chose to sit on the grass rather than in a plastic chair or on a rock semi-circle build around the firepit. As always, I needed to touch the earth.

Hawkwoman lit sage in an abalone shell for the sage smudging ceremony. This is a purification ceremony. Sage smoke releases negative ions in the air around a person, like waterfalls or the waves crashing the shore of the beach. It hooks itself to positive ions and neutralizes them.  The more negative ions around you, the more at peace you will be. This is why so many people feel such a sense of release and peace where there is running water. This is what happens with sage smoke as well.

We stated our gratitudes and intentions around the circle. I was grateful for the opportunity to attend, for Prairiewoods for hosting, for health and healing. My intentions were peace and healing.  We were asked if we’d like to bring anyone into the circle with us that could not be with us physically. I asked to bring my brother into the circle. As I said his name, for the first time since arriving at Prairiewoods, a crow cawed very loudly behind me and to my right. It was the only time in my three hours on the property that I heard a crow.

Then we started drumming. I didn’t know what to expect. Each of us had a drum and I thought maybe it would sound chaotic and disjointed with all of us drumming at the same time. That was not the case. Hawkwoman kept a low and steady beat. Luke was obviously a drummer because he provided us with very rhythmic and soothing beats. One girl seemed like she didn’t really want to be there. She wasn’t really drumming, but tapping lighting on the side of her drum. Another man, who had been to the circles before, was also drumming a steady rhythm, a slightly higher note than Hawkwoman. My own drum made sounds like rain.

I don’t know how long we all drummed together. The sounds overtook all other sounds. No cars, voices, phones, no negativity. Organically, the drumming came to a stop and we sat in silence. It was overwhelming and felt heavy and light at the same time.

Hawkwomen started drumming and singing. A few joined in with their own drumming rhythms. I felt I should be still. I sang a few of the verses with her. After the song, we sat in silence again.

We drummed again like the first time. Then Hawkwoman led us in a Drum Wash. We moved away from the fire and stood in a close circle. Each person entered the circle, said their name, we said their name back,  and we drummed while moving our drums up above the person’s head and down to their feet. It was an incredibly powerful experience. When I stepped into the circle, I stepped out from under the shade of a nearby tree to full sun. I closed my eyes and felt the sun warm my body and at the same time, I could feel the rhythms beating into my body from all sides. I wanted to stand there for hours.


After we finished, Hawkwoman and I had a conversation. I told her that I’d been meditating inside of my sauna to the sound of drumming last week and four animals came to me in quick succession: butterfly, hawk, rabbit, eagle.  I felt like the order was very important when I had the vision, but I didn’t know why. As I was reading about animal totems and their meanings, I found there are four types of animal totems. A messenger guide, a shadow animal guide, a journey animal guide, and a life animal guide. I had no idea before today that this was true. I now see the butterfly is my messenger, the hawk is my shadow guide, the rabbit is my journey guide and the eagle is my life guide.

As we were talking, first one deer came, then two. Hawkwoman told me to pay attention, as they were likely messengers. I counted 14. As I made my way through the woods on the path, I came upon the sweat lodge that we’ll be using for a ceremony on June 7. A rabbit ran in front of the entrance of and scampered off to the right side and stopped to stare at me. I remember thinking that is probably significant.

I kept going on the path and made it to a labyrinth.  (As I’m typing this, a crow just flew into my back yard and cawed,) I took off my shoes and put down my phone and started walking. I kept a steady pace. I was mostly looking down but I glanced up and saw a deer staring at me. She was right on the edge of the labyrinth. I locked eyes with her and she didn’t move. The next time I looked up there were two. Then three. Then four. They stayed the entire time I made my way around the labyrinth. I sat in the middle and looked back at them. They just stood there, staring at me. I couldn’t help but cry at the enormity of it all.

“A deer’s senses are very acute. Its vision is designed for clarity at a distance. It is especially effective at detecting contrasts and edges in dim light. Its hearing is equally acute. Anyone who has deer as a totem will find increasing ability to detect subtle movements and appearances. They will begin to hear what may not be said directly.When deer show up in your life it is time to be gentle with yourself and others. A new innocence and freshness is about to be awakened or born. There is going to be a gentle, enticing lure of new adventures. ” –Ted Andrews,  Animal Speak

I stood and left the labyrinth. As I looked back, the first deer to join me stepped into the circle and watched me leave. I understand there is significance, but I don’t know that I understand the full message right now. It’s a lot to take in and learn.



I’ve always paid attention to things that show themselves repetitively in my life.  One of those things is the number 14. So not only was it significant that I saw so many deer, but that there were 14 strongly suggests that this plays into the message that God has been sending me for many years now.

It’s a lot to take in and I’m still trying to unpack it all. What I know for sure is that I feel peace and I’m sensing a rebirth, like the butterfly. From my cocoon into my wings.  My word for 2014 (14!) is Listen.

And I am.