by Juli Able

In Atlanta spring has sprung; and it’s showing off. Blooms, birdsong, and thick yellow clouds of pollen. The cherry tree in my yard went from a few pink blossoms to a tree-full overnight. But last week just an hour north, I found everything locked in wintry sleep… until I kayaked to the back of a quiet cove. There, in muddy, shallow waters, I discovered hundreds of tiny tadpoles. My eyes widened. I smiled. Floating atop the earliest edge of spring made me happy and woke me up.

If I’m being honest, sometimes prayer (in other words, my connection with God) feels like it’s drifted into long wintry sleep. And I need help feeling the closeness that gives me energy and an inward smile. This is where a guide can really help.

In Atlanta spring has sprung; and it’s showing off. Blooms, birdsong, and thick yellow clouds of pollen. The cherry tree in my yard went from a few pink blossoms to a tree-full overnight. But last week just an hour north, I found everything locked in wintry sleep… until I kayaked to the back of a quiet cove. There, in muddy, shallow waters, I discovered hundreds of tiny tadpoles. My eyes widened. I smiled. Floating atop the earliest edge of spring made me happy and woke me up.

by Juli Able

I’d like to invite you on a journey. It’s familiar in some ways. But let me caution you
as Dallas Willard does in the opening pages of “The Divine Conspiracy”:

“Presumed familiarity breeds … unsuspected unfamiliarity, and then contempt.
And contempt can lead to profound ignorance.” [i]

People who think they already know are inclined to stop listening, not realizing there is more.  Just a few lines down, Willard says,

“In its deepest nature and meaning our universe is a community of boundless and totally competent love.” [ii]

So of course, there is more. A boundless more to life and a boundless more to God, than I currently know. But do I live open to more? Is my picture of God fixed based on what I now know? Or is it evolving, growing, expanding?

by Juli Able

“This is a God-bathed and God-permeated world.”[i] Dallas Willard

“All the things in this world are created because of God’s love and they become a context of gifts, presented to us so that we can know God more easily and make a return of love more readily.” [ii] StIgnatius of Loyola

We live within a “context of gifts”. Sometimes that’s apparent to me.  Other times, I lose sight. When life is busy, loud, common, or crowded, my connection with God and the reflection of God in the world can feel spotty at best.  So, I take my cue from a long line of others, including Jesus, who step away momentarily – seeking stillness, silence, and solitude – to tend my soul that needs connection with God.

by Juli Able

Gardening is teaching me to notice the very small. Today, I marvel at a cucumber plant’s thin tendril curled in tiny ringlets around a neighboring pepper cage. Fragile and strong, it’s doing what it can to lift out of dirt and reach toward light.  Removing low-lying tomato stems, I find a baby tomato hidden in the leaves J … with a big hole in its side L.  There are holes in the sunflower leaves too, and the basil. I panic and want to kill something! But my friend takes it all in stride. “There will be more tomatoes,” she promises. “Just wait and see.”

by Juli Able

A sun-speckled, winding road led to a sun-speckled, winding footpath. Our steps, softened by a pine needle carpet, brought us to our destination. It was simply and thoughtfully prepared. There’s not much you can add to a grove of live oaks at the edge of a swampy salt marsh, without overdoing it. The sun dipped low on the horizon. A breeze overhead ruffled the Spanish moss draped on long-armed trees. This was the most beautiful space for a wedding I’ve ever seen.