horseshoes in the street

Yesterday was the annual Christmas gathering of the girls with whom I've been friends the longest. How amazing, how refreshing, to get together over chicken pad thai and Christmas cupcakes (and the Dashwood sisters of Sense and Sensibility) and laugh.
And laugh. And laugh...

I won't pretend that Christmas was the easiest this year, or that I didn't have my moments of grief and regret...but I can say that the company of good friends has been and will continue to be a source of joy and strength. It's easy to forget how many memories we've shared: last night, watching a candid video taken last year, I realized just how many of those moments we've had over the years. Unforgettable, genuine moments that serve as the best reminder of how incredible true friendship really is...from horseshoes in the street to clutch purses and brick fireplaces and noses on faces and so many other inside jokes that there are too many even to recall.

This year has been about friendship. I am lucky to have such incredible people around me...and while perhaps that list of people is not endlessly long, the relationships I have cultivated have grown increasingly deep and meaningful. What a blessing it is to have people who know me inside and out, who laugh with me and cry with me, who mourn the loss of what was before and hope with me for whatever may come next.

Thank you.

Lean on me when you're not strong
And I'll be your friend
I'll help you carry on
For it won't be long
'Til I'm gonna need
Somebody to lean on

Lean on Me,
Bill Withers

departure (all that will be left behind)

For every new beginning, there is an ending...a door closing, a chapter concluding. This has certainly been the case in my life of late, as seasons change and this year rapidly draws to a close.

Thank the Lord. I cannot even begin to express the sense of relief and liberation I feel, the tangibility of limitless possibility for my future. Yet even as the year ahead brings with it fresh outlook, perspective and hope, the end of this year is, for me, a time to grieve the things that were...the things that are no more...the things that will be left behind.

Perhaps this says it best.

It’s over now
It’s come full circle
The end is near
The end is here

But I am okay
I am all right

I have shed tears enough to soak the desert
Cried enough to wake the dead
You have slumbered on in stubborn silence
Lying in your still dry bed

Your heart of stone
Your brittle bones will break yet
They will break yet

But I am okay
I am all right

You made your choice
Left me no voice
But I am screaming now
I am screaming out loud

You can’t hurt me any more
You won’t hurt me any more
You can’t hurt me
You won’t hurt me
But you’ll hurt

Your heart of stone
Your brittle bones will break yet
They will break yet

But I am okay
I am all right

It’s over now
It’s come full circle
The end is here
The end is near
It’s over now

Bones,
Julia Hendrik

arrival

After years of discussion and deliberation, I have finally arrived in this previously daunting world of blog. It's rather a propos, at this time particularly, to be vulnerable, naked, exposed: to have my honest reflection (or, at times, tortured introspection) be readily available for virtually uncensored comment and critique.

How terrifyingly, dreadfully exciting.

What an excruciatingly long season of painful struggle, heartbreak and reformation it has been. Yet I am beginning to rise from the ashes of this purging fire through which I have walked (and sometimes crawled)...slowly, surely, I am emerging, having found strength I could never have imagined, peace I had never known.

I'm getting there.

Beauty for ashes
Strength for fear
Gladness for mourning
Peace for despair

Beauty for Ashes,
Crystal Lewis