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If you read my last blog, you know that I spent a weekend on the mountain with Jesus and the garden. The whole time I couldn’t help but pick flowers and sit in wonder at the beauty He has surrounded us with. Here are the words He gave me to express the things I heard&saw. 

I remember the joy of seeing you.

And picking you.

 

Colors of the sun,

Reflecting the son.

 

I couldn’t help but stop and smell the roses

Wondered if I could capture this moment forever

 

Suddenly this feeling was washing over me

Back to the garden.

 

Restoration. 

Stewardship. 

 

A beautiful revelation of your goodness

I could see the plans coming in place


Your original goodness

Overflowing in life around me.

 

Who knew heaven could meet earth

In such a place as this.

 

So I stole away to my journal

Piling in the fragrance and beauty all on one page

 

Hoping I’d remember this moment,

For all eternity. 

2 responses to “pressed flowers”

  1. I must admit, you do many things that I also find joy in. Pressing flowers is a lost art, the old timers used to use the old book presses to collect their pressed flowers, called découpage. It’s simply a treat to touch a real part of a place you’ve been to. As time goes on you’ll wonder if all you’ve seen is just a vivid dream until you go back to those pages, touch them and say “Yes, I WAS there!!” Love love

  2. BEAUTIFUL! Your photos and words are such a beautiful representation of sweet intimacy and communion with the Father!