“Sometimes a season starts before we realize it — in a turn of wind, in a single gold leaf falling, in a tug inside the heart.”

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This week, the sun has been dripping over amber leaves, spilling gold across hillsides and lighting the waters until they shiver with joy. But now, above the Finger Lakes, the sky has shifted — a steel-grey dome heavy with rain, the wind already whispering of snowdrifts and quiet fields. It’s the kind of weather that invites you to stay close, draw the quilt tighter, and listen for the voice of God in the patter of rain.

It was in such a moment that I felt stirred to begin this blog. Words, I believe, can be a bridge — between my heart and yours, between our shared human stories and God’s timeless grace. I hope this space will be an online clearing in the woods, a place for you to pause, to breathe deeply, and to remember that you are beloved.

In the weeks ahead, I envision this blog traveling three interwoven paths:

1. Poetic Reflections — Seasonal imagery from the Finger Lakes: light sliding off water in June, geese calling over Seneca Lake in November, crisp moonlight scattered over dormant vineyards. Beauty nourishes our spirits just as air nourishes our bodies. In glimpsing the beauty of creation, we glimpse the heart of the Creator.
2. Devotional Meditations — Scriptural reflections, sometimes gentle as a whispered prayer, sometimes bold enough to rattle pillars. Faith flourishes in the conversation between God’s Word and our everyday lives, between ancient truths and tomorrow’s headlines.
3. Justice and Compassion — Courageous engagement with holy and hard topics: justice, mercy, and community resilience. Speaking truth in love is part of the walk of faith.

Some weeks, you might read an image-rich meditation on Psalm 23 written while snow falls across Lake Ontario. Another week may bring a reflection on courage, shaped by a walk near waterfalls that roar louder than doubt. Some days, I may share a poem about fog draping vineyards like an unhurried blessing; other days, a bold word on what justice looks like for God’s people today.

Whether you are reading from a farmhouse tucked between the lakes or a city apartment where the wind rights itself in the alleyway, I hope these words will keep you company. This blog will not pretend that faith is simple — it will honor the questions, the laughter, and even the aching silence that sometimes sits beside prayer. God’s love is not a distant doctrine; it is daily bread, offered to us sun-warmed or rain-soaked, and always enough.

Today, the rains will keep falling, soaking the soil until spring’s daffodils dream deep in their beds. By nightfall, the wind will carry the scent of woodsmoke and the murmur of geese flying south. Somewhere in the midst of it, perhaps you will stop, as I have stopped, and whisper a quiet thank You for the mercy of seasons — both in the world and in our hearts.

I invite you to walk with me in the weeks ahead. Bring your questions, your laughter, your own glimpses of beauty and moments of faith. Share in the comments what you’re hungry to hear most — a verse, a story, a plain truth, or perhaps simply another description of amber leaves in October.

The seasons are changing. Let’s notice them together.
And as we do, may you know — deeply and without doubt — that you are loved by the One who made the waters shimmer and the sky turn steel grey.

Blessings on your journey.