“Behold, I will bring it health and cure, and I will cure them, and will reveal unto them the abundance of peace and truth.”
Jeremiah 33:6 KJV
I’m guilty of using words repeatedly, words like “season” I keep hearing, lyrical sort of as they dance with others.
I like the word peace. I cherish it, settle my mind on its importance for me, more so for those I love, those I meet.
Others I’m using are resonate, redeem, and appreciate.
I pause mid sentence to use my mental thesaurus, but these words seem to be mine in this season. I see no need for substitutes.
I’ve just read the writing prompt for Five Minute Friday by Kate Moutang, the word “twenty”. She shared a sweet story of her memories of world travel, a trip she thought was one of “giving”
That turned out to be a season of sweet gifts and lessons she treasures.
I have a little quirk.
I like things in threes.
Three plants lined up on a shelf, a turtle and a rabbit anchored by a little sign saying “peace”. I love the way three seems complete, like the knot tied in a string and the meeting place in a circle of hand holders,
a ring around the rosy kind of innocent peace.
This morning, actually for a month or more, I’ve been thinking about my 60’s as my 62nd draws near. I’ve been the listener in little coffee shop chats between women, comparing which was harder,
Turning 30, 40, 50, or 60?
The marking of a new decade. I’m wondering about the years in between. The years that take a back seat to the big surprise gathering, black balloons, not so funny jokes, but sweet celebrations with family and friends cheering, look how far you’ve made it!
Thinking of “20”, I’ve mentally divided my 60 plus years by three. I’m time traveling back to 20 year old me, 40 and 60.
The seasons and seasoning of me by hardship, grief, achievements, peace, panic, fear, and many wow, we made it, they did it, so very proud moments!
Wiser now, quicker to see my need for humility, more safe with my true self.
Imperfect and not defeated by the imperfection of me.
So what if I look back I wonder at Lisa at 23, 33, 43, 53?
Were those birthdays less monumental?
I can’t remember really, just know they led to the almost 62 me and I’m grateful for every lesson, every gift I never believed 20 year old Lisa would see.
All of them, every single second leading to the truth of me.
This truth is peace.
It’s worth it times three.
Linking up with others prompted by “20” here.