This says most of where I am at in my journey. I've raised my children into teens through adulthood and as the nest empties out, the woman I've become from that very journey is beginning anew. The inner pot is nearly filled with all the ingredients and starting to simmer together. And just as this poem says, I am holding it close and learning to nurture and grow this season.
My hands weave the soft yarn, my heart is full as I write little notes in all my mama Bibles, the homestead is learning to cultivate and produce, and I am finding little pockets of time for just myself that were once fully occupied by littles under foot. My soul now craves these new moments. I am building the wood pile within to kindle this fire and move forward.
I'm not sure what mountain I will be called to climb or where I will move them, but I know deep within of this change . . . it's Her Time . . . it's my calling.
Poem Source - Pinterest
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