The Only Way I Know To Pray


Last year at this time I was unable to visit my most favorite, beloved part of Sedona because of a  recent 10 day forest fire that swept through much of this sacred land.

I was devastated and overwhelmed with sadness as we slowly drove the winded path north taking in all of the damage that sweet Sedona had endured due to someone’s carelessness.

For nights I literally couldn’t sleep because my heart ached so bad.

I found this precious spot years before when Phoenix was just a baby.  I would strap him on my back and spend all day hiking through those tall pines.  It always felt like being home to me, and its no surprise that those hikes always lured Phoenix into the most sweetest of slumbers.

When Hali was here for our work retreat, I took her to my favorite spot worried that maybe it was still closed for visitors.  Truly lost forever.

To my great joy, it wasn’t.

Yes, there was still much evidence left from the horror that swallowed so much of the wildlife and landscape last year.

But what moved me most was the new growth everywhere.

These sweet, tender tree trunks were reaching for new life.

Their bark cloaked in velvet.  Soft, luxurious, promising.

And it was so apparent that each tiny leaf was breathing in hope.

It’s possible.  It’s possible.

Is the mantra I kept whispering.

It’s possible to recover.  To be reborn.  To seek redemption from other’s sins.  To let go of everything you once knew — to welcome in the new like a royal best friend.

It’s possible.  It’s possible.

So I got down on my knees and I prayed the only way I know how.

Whispering again and again…

It’s possible.  It’s possible.  It’s possible.

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