Wildflower Writes

Photo by  Rohit Tandon  on  Unsplash I have a painting on my wall. My son created it to accompany his Bob Ross costume last Halloween. And yes, it has happy trees. And mountains framing a waterfall. When I look at it, there’s something I’ve heard described as homesickness for places one has never been. The German word for it is “fernweh.” I’ve lived in three midwestern states. There’s always been woods to explore, but no mountains. Every time I’ve been on a trip through mountains, there’s a sense of wonder and mystery and curiosity. When I traveled to Colorado on a school trip, I climbed every rock I could. Every time I got to a peak, there was a higher peak to climb. It should have been discouraging, to never reach the top. At the time, it was amazing. I thought I had seen the whole picture, but it was just the beginning, just a limited view of the larger landscape. I used to think the goal was to “have it all together.” I believed once I had reached certain mile...

Continued from 6/19 post… Wendy opened the bathroom door and brushed past her mother. She found a granola bar in the kitchen and stuffed it in her purse. She even found an old Gideon New Testament she had been given in elementary school. She gave her mom a light kiss on the cheek and headed outside. The air was hot and muggy, even this early in the morning. She decided to walk. She hadn’t been in a church building since Christmas. She was starting to second-guess her brilliant plan to win God’s favor so He would grant her wish. Yet, her sandaled feel kept moving forward down the sidewalk, and the steeple seemed to grow taller and taller. It sure was pretty in the morning light. Suddenly she turned. She could have sworn she heard someone calling her name. It was coming from the parking lot of the church. Someone was waving at her. “Wendy!” he called again, as he began to run toward her. She finally recognized her greeter. It was Jason from the hospital, looking quite ha...