To bless means to “call it good.”  We bless the dead, calling on all of our aching hearts to know that our only recourse is to make it good somehow.  Till the soil under for the next crop.  Plant flowers that bloom in the next cycle.

Broken homes make new beginnings.  Lost loves turn into good experience.  Changing bodies allows us to be more gentle.  Each season reminds us once again of what we forgot.

Earth is a blessing, from songbirds to tiny bright and resilient dandelions, that reminds us we truly can be called good.  Why is it hard sometimes to get joy in myself as “good” and blessed?  It is that tempter of the dark side telling me entangled stories of insufficiency, bad motives, weaknesses and cheating to feed off my paranoia.

It is just a shadow and I snicker at the illusion and move into the soft warm sunlight of Her Love.