Simply Soul Searching
HOW IS GOD LOVING ME – AND WHERE IS GOD LEADING ME?
WHAT ARE WE REVEALING? (AN EPIPHANY REFLECTION)
Yesterday morning as I walked by the city park playground, I smiled, remembering… There was a time when I resented that playground, because it is situated on what was once my favorite view along my walking route–a quiet grassy meadow surrounded by rolling hills. But after enjoying a few afternoons of playful fun and laughter there with our daughters and grandchildren, the playground has become a sacred space, a keeper of precious family moments.
In contrast, since moving to this neighborhood, I have been approached by at least fifteen different unleashed dogs (I won’t carry pepper spray because the dogs are not to blame). I have been sniffed, nipped, chased, jumped on, growled at, and even confronted face-to-face by one large dog with his paws on my shoulders. I am now quite fearful of the sweet animals I once enjoyed.
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The playground and the dogs offer an Epiphany insight for me today.
In this season of Epiphany, followers of Christ gratefully revisit the stories in which Jesus reveals God’s loving presence through his humanity and his divinity. We then seek to live and serve as Jesus did, to become his bodily presence in the world. We are called to love, to compassion, to peace, patience, kindness, justice. We are called to offer healing and hope and hospitality. We are called to forgiveness and mercy. We are called to continue revealing God, who is always here with us, through living and loving as Jesus did.
Understanding how my perceptions of the playground and the dogs have been influenced by my experiences with them, how my daily perceptions of the world around me are often determined by the feelings I have after each encounter, I then wonder…
How are we representing God?
How would people see God’s love, shown through Jesus, revealed in us?
Would they see us as a sacred space, a place of love, joy, and tenderness–or as a hindrance, an obstruction to a lovely, expansive vista?
Would they see us as affectionate, exuberant creatures, or would they feel threatened by our territorial approach or intrusive demeanor?
Would they look forward to our next encounter, or try to avoid us?
Richard Foster says it well: “We can’t proclaim the Good News and be the bad news.” *
May we seek to live each day as genuine examples of God’s goodness and love, so humbly revealed to us in the life of Jesus. May people experience such peace, joy, and lovingkindness that they long for more. May this Epiphany season open our eyes to see God’s presence in the world–and open our hearts to be Christ’s love for the world.
* Richard Foster–Hope for a New Reformation, Renovaré podcast, May 1, 2016.
(Photo by Karen–Epiphany star mounted on a hillside water tank. If you look closely, you may be able to see a white outline of a church steeple underneath the star–the star is quite large!)
MY GUIDING WORD FOR 2026: BEGIN
The beginning is always today. ~ Mary Shelley
If the path be beautiful, let us not ask where it leads. ~ Anatole France
I like to follow the spiritual practice of choosing a guiding word for the new year, one that will serve as a centering theme for living my days. Christine Valters Paintner of The Abbey of the Arts describes the practice as asking for a word that will nourish and challenge… a word (to) wrestle with and grow into… a word that has the potential to transform… *
This year, the word, BEGIN, came to me on one of my morning walks, and it was quickly confirmed when I heard a podcaster say, “Just do it. Life is short!” Once home, I looked up Bible passages around the idea of beginning and found several treasures to further guide my thoughts.
The word BEGIN inspires and encourages me in several ways.
So if anyone is in Christ, there is a new creation:
everything old has passed away;
look, new things have come into being!
(2 Corinthians 5:17)
As I approach the age of 70 years–and after having had cancer years ago–I am mindful of the brevity and preciousness of life. So, I have this tendency to consider my remaining years as a time to “wrap things up”–to slow down, pull back, simplify, and focus on finishing what needs to be finished. But I also want to invest myself in worthy pursuits, to make the most of each day, to do whatever good I can do in the time that I have. Then, I become hesitant when I question whether I have the time, energy, or ability to do things well!
BEGIN guides me to regard the next decade as a new beginning, not an ending of life. The word offers a more hopeful perspective, that my 70s could be an era of exciting opportunities for learning, serving, and living well. In what ways will my age become a gift? Will I find that I have a bit of wisdom and insight to share from these years of life experiences? Could I honor my physical need for slowing by choosing fewer but better things to pursue? Instead of counting down the days, will I choose to gratefully welcome each additional day? My heart warms just to consider these possibilities.
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When clouds are full,
they empty rain on the earth;
whether a tree falls to the south or to the north,
in the place where the tree falls, there it will lie.
Whoever observes the wind will not sow,
and whoever regards the clouds will not reap.
(Ecclesiastes 11:3-4)
Sometimes we make the process more complicated than we need to. We will never make a journey of a thousand miles by fretting about how long it will take or how hard it will be. We make the journey by taking each day step by step and then repeating it again and again until we reach our destination.
~ Joseph B. Wirthlin
BEGIN also prompts me to “Just do it! Go ahead and start!” I hope the word will guide me to simply begin a new idea or project, instead of weighing how much time or effort it will take—even when the goal seems daunting. I hope to be more courageous and free-spirited about beginning new ventures that I have held in my heart, like writing another book, creating new retreats, learning sign language, bringing out my guitar to play again, exploring a new topic, or making a long spiritual pilgrimage. I want to take the first step without letting the size of the task (or my lack of confidence) intimidate me. I hope to see my curiosity become an invitation to explore. Each new beginning will have something to reveal, wherever it may lead.
~~~~~~~~~~
Do not remember the former things
or consider the things of old.
I am about to do a new thing;
now it springs forth; do you not perceive it?
I will make a way in the wilderness
and rivers in the desert.
(Isaiah 43: 18-19)
BEGIN gives me hope for the world. Are we learning very difficult lessons that will help us to do better in the future? This year, what “new thing” might arise if we–individually and together–more faithfully seek justice, offer compassion, live with humble integrity, and serve with generosity and love?
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The steadfast love of the Lord never ceases,
his mercies never come to an end;
they are new every morning;
great is your faithfulness.
“The Lord is my portion,” says my soul,
“therefore I will hope in him.”
(Lamentations 3:22-24)
Finally, BEGIN gives me a change in perspective on life itself; to regard each day as a chance to begin anew. The steadfast love of the Lord never ceases, so mistakes become wisdom. Regrets become second chances. Dreams become realities. Heartaches become inspirations. Disappointments become better endings. His mercies never come to an end; they are new every morning. May I welcome each day as a fresh and gracious new beginning–and perhaps, make it so for others, too. Thank you, God.
And now we welcome the new year, full of things that have never been.
~ Rainer Maria Rilke
May you feel richly blessed, peacefully centered, and joyfully surprised in the year ahead, dear reader friends. Thank you for your companionship here.
(Photo by my sister Janet)
https://abbeyofthearts.com/blog/2025/12/11/give-me-a-word-2026/
LOVE… AND LAUGHTER
I was pleasantly surprised to find this cheerful wreath on the door to my office when I arrived one morning last week (I serve as the Parish Administrator at our local Episcopal Church). A few hours later, I learned from Father Andy that the gift was from one of our dear members, Angie! I was touched by her kindness and quickly composed a text message to thank her.
Some of life’s lessons are very embarrassing ones. The lesson for me that morning is that I should NEVER use the speak-to-text capability on my cellphone without reviewing it! Here is what Angie received:
The app did not clearly hear me say the word, thoughtful!
I quickly texted her again to explain what had happened, to apologize… and then to admit that I couldn’t stop laughing about this! She is gracious and tenderhearted, and she was laughing on her end, too.
This Advent Sunday begins the week of Love in Christ. Love comes in a variety of ways, doesn’t it?! Just revisiting this moment, I think of all the ways that Love can reveal itself.
Love is found in surprising acts of generosity.
Love is found in taking the time to brighten someone’s day.
Love is found in being grateful for our daily blessings.
Love is found in thanking someone for their kindness.
Love is found in being sorry for our slip-ups.
Love is found in overlooking the innocent mistakes.
(Love is found in forgiving the not-so-innocent ones.)
Love is found in looking for the true intention when words don’t make sense.
Love is found in pausing, reviewing, considering our words before we speak or send them.
Love is found in the humiliating moments when the humor shines through.
Love is found in the joy and the laughter shared with one another.
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In writing this post, I found a quote that really touched my soul, from Kahlil Gibran. I hope this blesses you, too:
I would not exchange the laughter of my heart for the fortunes of the multitudes; nor would I be content with converting my tears, invited by my agonized self, into calm. It is my fervent hope that my whole life on this earth will ever be tears and laughter. Tears that purify my heart and reveal to me the secret of life and its mystery, Laughter that brings me closer to my fellow men; Tears with which I join the broken-hearted, Laugher that symbolizes joy over my very existence. ~ Kahlil Gibran
May love and joy surround you this week, dear friends!
Happy Holidays,
Karen 🙂
“OH, LES, THERE’S A PAINTING!” (ADVENT JOY)
My dad was a talented yet humble watercolor artist who often painted landscapes; over time, my mom found her new role as his creative assistant, learning to watch for interesting, “paintable” scenes. Dad would be driving through the countryside when Mom would suddenly exclaim, “Oh, Les, there’s a painting!” She would point out a dilapidated barn with a rusted roof, a weathered porch with rickety rocking chairs, colorful wildflowers along a white picket fence, or broken cornstalks in a winter field. The two of them gained an appreciation for the beauty of shadow and light, the importance of subtlety and depth, the power of a scene to tell a story.
And I learned that watercolor painting is more than simply choosing blue for water, green for grass, white for snow. Dad would swirl together a combination of watercolor pigments to create shades that I might describe as snow shadow, seafoam highlight, aging barnwood, or morning sky (if you look at this painting, you will notice that the shadows of the trees are not simple strokes of gray). I learned that white was not the pigment but the paper; at times, Dad would use peelable rubber cement to protect certain areas from his watercolor washes. I learned that images could be suggested, not perfectly outlined, and yet still convey what they were intended to be (such as the background trees in this painting).
This gift of finding works of art in ordinary or unattractive scenes has been passed to my siblings and me. On my daily walks, I love to look for unique, colorful, or meaningful scenes to photograph as inspiration for my writing. I am grateful to walk my route with deeper attention to the world around me.
We are now entering the Third Week of Advent, the week of Advent Joy. This is difficult to write about. I hesitate to bring up the idea of Joy when I know that so many are grieving, anxious, irritated, fearful, or discouraged. But my memories of my artistic father and attentive mother are revealing a lesson in joy…
“Happiness does not depend on outward things, but on the way we see them.” ~ Leo Tolstoy
This week, I hope to observe my ordinary life with the appreciation of an artist; to regard the moments, experiences, and scenes as part of a bigger picture. I hope to be mindful that my life is an ongoing project of God–our infinitely creative, still creating, always loving Creator. With an attentive eye, I hope to look beyond the ordinary for the miracle, behind the challenge for the lesson, between the experiences for the meaning. I hope to find the importance of both shadow and light, of subtlety and depth, of the power of each story. I hope to be attentive to God’s work within others; to look more deeply into the eyes of the hurting, into the spirit beneath the smile, into the yearning that may be suggested but often goes unmentioned. I hope to pay closer attention to God’s creative progress in crafting this eternal Joy.
What joys might I find? What joys might I share? How will this ongoing project of my life add more beauty, more joy, to God’s work of art at its completion?
I pray to find–and to be–the abundant joy in Christ.
Creator God,
“Make me an instrument…”
open my eyes,
guide my ways,
use my gifts…
that I may become
a creative assistant
in your ongoing,
often messy,
carefully crafted,
intricately detailed,
softly suggested,
uniquely imagined,
ever evolving,
masterful work of art.
Amen.
May you find many reasons for Advent Joy this week, dear reader friends.
(Photo by Karen; Make me an instrument is a quote from the Prayer Attributed to St. Francis)
TURNING TOWARD
In those days John the Baptist appeared in the wilderness of Judea, proclaiming, “Repent, for the kingdom of heaven has come near.” This is the one of whom the prophet Isaiah spoke when he said,
“The voice of one crying out in the wilderness:
‘Prepare the way of the Lord,
make his paths straight.’”
But when he saw many Pharisees and Sadducees coming for baptism, he said to them, “You brood of vipers! Who warned you to flee from the wrath to come? Bear fruit worthy of repentance. Do not presume to say to yourselves, ‘We have Abraham as our ancestor’; for I tell you, God is able from these stones to raise up children to Abraham. Even now the ax is lying at the root of the trees; every tree therefore that does not bear good fruit is cut down and thrown into the fire. “I baptize you with water for repentance, but one who is more powerful than I is coming after me; I am not worthy to carry his sandals. He will baptize you with the Holy Spirit and fire. His winnowing fork is in his hand, and he will clear his threshing floor and will gather his wheat into the granary; but the chaff he will burn with unquenchable fire.”
(Matthew 3:1-3, 7-12)
In our Advent devotional readings, we have revisited the story of John the Baptist several times this week, and each time, I have to smile. As we reflect on the gift of Advent Peace, we read that John calls his followers (and perhaps us), “a brood of vipers!” His additional name-calling warnings do not bring peace to my soul. But John’s message in Matthew 3 is an important one for Advent, reminding us that the kingdom of heaven has come near and now is the time to repent, as we prepare our hearts to receive Christ Jesus once again.
In this call for repentance, this call to turn from our sin, we are truly gifted to know the rest of the story.
Jesus does come, and he invites us to follow him. As his followers, we witness his acts of mercy and healing. We hear his stories, such as the one of the prodigal son with the loving father, and of the shepherd who searches for his lost sheep. We learn from his wisdom of a new way to live, as in the Beatitudes. We are invited to come to him, weary and burdened, and he will give us rest. Finally, as we remember his terrible agony, we also recall his words, “Father, forgive them, for they do not know what they are doing.” *
Because of Jesus, today we can find the Peace in repentance. Our turning away from our sinful nature is–most of all–a turning toward God; the God whom Jesus reveals as loving, forgiving, gracious, merciful, healing, restoring, welcoming. Our turning toward God is always for our good, our peace. Any “burning of the chaff” will be done in love, in gentle corrective wisdom within our souls. Because of Jesus, repentance transforms into a joyful invitation to keep turning toward God, often and in everything!
Yes, we can turn to God in our sorrow and regret for the sins we have already done. We can turn to God when we are tempted to do wrong; when we are impatient, reactionary, revenge-seeking, unloving, selfish, prideful, unkind. But we can also turn to God when we are sad, hurting, frustrated, or lost; when we need to be comforted, healed, listened to, calmed, assured, forgiven. We can turn to God in each of our everyday moments to find wisdom, discernment, companionship, and every need for our soul’s well-being.
We can turn to the One who will lovingly tend and nourish us to “bear fruit that is worthy of repentance”–fruit that is healthy, helpful, and holy.
* Stories are from Luke 15; Beatitudes are from Matthew 5; Jesus’s invitation to come to him is in Matthew 11; and Jesus’s words of forgiveness are found in Luke 23.
(Photo by Karen; Bible passage is NRSVUE, found at https://www.biblegateway.com/)
THE MOUNTAIN AND THE MANGER
In days to come
the mountain of the Lord’s house
shall be established as the highest of the mountains
and shall be raised above the hills;
all the nations shall stream to it.
Many peoples shall come and say,
“Come, let us go up to the mountain of the Lord,
to the house of the God of Jacob,
that he may teach us his ways
and that we may walk in his paths.”
For out of Zion shall go forth instruction
and the word of the Lord from Jerusalem.
He shall judge between the nations
and shall arbitrate for many peoples;
they shall beat their swords into plowshares
and their spears into pruning hooks;
nation shall not lift up sword against nation;
neither shall they learn war any more.
O house of Jacob,
come, let us walk
in the light of the Lord!
Isaiah 2:2-5
May the God of hope fill you with all joy and peace in believing,
so that you may abound in hope by the power of the Holy Spirit.
Romans 15:13
These first two weeks of Advent are a time when many of us observe the Hope and Peace of God in Christ. Last week, we lit the Candle of Hope, and this week, we light the Candle of Peace. These Advent observances remind us of the goodness of God made known to us in Christ Jesus; Jesus came to bring our Hope and Peace (and our Joy and Love).
Hope and Peace…
even as my personal life is currently filled with joy and blessing, my heart aches for those who are hurting, grieving, anxious, or lost–the people I learn about in sad and upsetting news stories, as well as a few dear friends who are enduring heartbreaking days. How can they find hope or peace in such troubling, even devastating times?
This reading from Isaiah for the First Sunday of Advent has remained with me as a vision of hope. When everyday life can often feel like an uphill climb, Isaiah’s image of God’s presence on a mountain assures us that the climb will be worth it.
We are on a lifelong journey toward God’s glorious presence “on the mountain,” God’s presence of awe, wonder, and infinite love for all eternity.
This journey of life does not come with an easy, well-marked path. We are likely to encounter surprises, stumble over obstacles, or lose our direction for a while. We will be wounded along the way by deep loss, hurtful acts, broken relationships. But when we envision the mountain of the Lord and anticipate the glorious splendor that awaits us there, we are inspired and strengthened with hope to persevere on our journey.
We are now also on an Advent journey toward God’s humble presence “in the manger,” God’s presence of compassion, humility, and abiding love for us, here and now.
And as we journey through this season, we might be challenged here as well. We can feel discouraged, saddened, doubtful, or distraught, despite our faithfulness. But when we envision the manger of Christ and anticipate the humble birth that promises life anew, we are encouraged and comforted to continue on our journey. The peace of Christ draws us onward to the manger–and accompanies us as we go.
Oh, our journey may not be easy; our path may be an uphill climb. But when we keep our focus on the goodness of God, we can persevere in hope and peace…
the radiant hope that shines before us from the mountain
and the gentle peace that glows upon us from the manger.
May you feel surrounded by infinite hope and peace this week, dear reader friends.
(photo by Karen)
Bible passages are NRSVUE translation, found at https://www.biblegateway.com/
ADVENT: A SEASON OF STILLNESS (AND SURPRISES?)
INTRODUCTION
For the past several years, I have felt an increasingly deeper “Advent Ache,” an inner longing for more of God in Christ amid the heartache, worry, and sometimes despair of these days. This year, as I contemplated reflections for the season, I listed some of my soul’s deepest longings (such as peace, patience, hope, purpose, justice) and wondered how God might help me with them. Suddenly the verse from Psalm 46 came to mind:
“Be still and know that I am God.”
It came to me that if I could be still with God, I would be giving God more of my attention and space to work with every longing in my soul.
I sense this invitation to Be Still as a time to be with God just as I am, even when I am carrying heaviness, hurt, or heartache. What might happen if I humbly offer my sorrow, anxiousness, fear, scorn, anger, frustration, or other burdens to God as gifts? What might happen if I prayerfully name and surrender all that is troubling, all that aches within me? Might God be ready to receive my daily burdens, my unattractive qualities, my doubting ways–in order to empty my cluttered soul, to clear space for more of God’s goodness?
More than that, the invitation to Be Still also asks that I let go of my expectations. As I spend time in quiet stillness, I hope to truly let God be God, to set aside my (often short-sighted or selfish) seeking and allow God to fill me as God sees fit. When Mary was told that she would be the mother of Jesus, she too, had been longing. She understood that God had looked with favor on the lowly state of his servant and filled the hungry with good things (Luke 1:48, 53). And Mary was filled with good things–God things–but they were certainly unexpected things, even difficult things! As God looks with favor on my lowliness and fills my every longing, I may be surprised, too. But as I continue preparing my heart and soul for our Celebration of Jesus’s birth, I wonder…
What new thing might God want to be birthed in me?
Bless you this Advent. May you find moments of stillness in which you feel the deepest longings of your soul quieted and fulfilled in unexpected ways.
(Photo by Karen; sunrise in Newberry, SC)
TO KEEP WALKING TOWARD THE HORIZON
Most every morning around 7:00, I begin walking toward the eastern horizon to see the dawning of the new day.
As you can imagine, with the passing seasons my views of the horizon keep changing. At 7:00 in July, the sun was already quite high, but now at the end of October, there is only the promising glow of the sun on its way. Each morning offers a varying palette of color–deep purples and blues, pale yellows, or bright oranges and pinks. There are times when clouds completely hide the sun and other times when they allow a few lovely sunbeams to shine through. On foggy mornings, the blanket of gray lends itself to quiet contemplation. And last week, as I walked in the early morning darkness, the Bridge Park caretaker turned on the parking lot lights for me. The lights washed out my view of the morning sky, but his kindness warmed my heart.
When I first began this practice, my goal was to witness the perfect sunrise as often as possible. I would be disappointed when the sky, the weather, or my schedule kept me from doing so. But over time, this practice of just showing up–for whatever the sky presents–has become a ritual of comfort and peace. I choose to keep walking toward the eastern horizon, but with a new spirit of open curiosity and a grateful acceptance of each different view before me. The sunrise is ever changing, but the regularity and consistency of this discipline are grounding and centering me (before I return to the chaos and concerns of these days).
In a recent gospel reading, we heard the story that Jesus told of a widow and an unjust judge (Luke 18), in which the widow keeps coming before the judge with her pleas for justice, but he remains unwilling to help. She finally pesters him enough that he grows weary and agrees to take care of her request.
My Jim gave an insightful message in which he echoed the words of Jesus, that God is the opposite of this unjust judge. We do not need to pester God, because God is always ready to lovingly hear our prayers, and God already knows what we need. Jim went on to say that the story is about persistence in faith–the kind of faith that keeps trusting when life gives us every reason not to. “Faith isn’t proven by instant answers, it’s proven in persistence,” he added.
Then my thoughts went further…
I considered how persistence in faith and prayer might be like walking toward the dawn. Maybe faithful persistence is to regularly, routinely open my soul to God, with no other purpose except to enter into God’s loving goodness, trusting that God will reveal what I should take in and take with me.
Like my experiences of the morning sky, my time with God may feel foggy or clear, ordinary or striking, disappointing or amazing, uninspiring or wondrous. But whatever is revealed, I will find comfort in the consistency, peace in the present, hope in the promise of another new day. Persisting in faith, I will keep walking toward the eastern horizon. I will keep showing up for time with God, not knowing what might be revealed… but trusting the great Revealer.
Hidden or bright or ordinary or awesome, the rising sun is always radiantly shining.
And so is God.
(Photos by Karen)
THREE SANCTUARIES FOR TURBULENT TIMES
INNER SANCTUARY
Where can we go
in days of tears
and turmoil,
when the world feels
too much with us?
There is an inner sanctuary
we can fill
with solitude and silence,
prayers and petitions,
reflection and release.
Then, filled with presence and peace,
this sanctuary stays with us,
a source of respite
to center our souls.
OUTER SANCTUARY
Where can we go
in days of heartache
and helplessness,
when the world feels
too dark before us?
There is an outer sanctuary
we can find
with sunrises and seasons,
birdsong and blossoms,
rivers and rainbows.
Then, filled with healing and hope,
this sanctuary surrounds us,
a source of renewal
to light our way.
MUTUAL SANCTUARY
Where can we go
in days of hardship and hatred,
when the world feels
too heavy upon us?
There is a mutual sanctuary
we can form
with love and laughter,
compassion and comfort,
service and solidarity.
Then, filled with life and love,
this sanctuary includes us,
a source of refuge
to stand and to support.
(Photos by Karen)
CHRISTMAS, HERE AND NOW
Last weekend, our family gathered for our “Family Christmas,” a tradition that began three years ago when we struggled to find a December day that fit with all of our schedules. We have found that celebrating the holiday in the summer season works well for us–the weather is better for traveling, the little ones are more likely to be healthy (avoiding the cold and flu season), we can spread out to the back porch when we need a little space, and then in December, each family can have a more restful time with their own families and traditions. Grammy and Grampy do all of the usual festive holiday preparations. We decorate, wrap gifts, make lots of food, and bake cookies! (In December, we keep it simple, with just a few nativity crèches and candles on the altar table.)
Our celebration is now over, but I have decided to leave the decorations up for a while. Because, even as it feels incongruous to have snowmen displayed (especially with this heat), I need this joyous holiday feeling to linger.
Our country and world feel so very heavy, and while I am trying to help make a difference where I can, I’m also finding respite from our worries and concerns as I keep the joy of the holiday with us. I’m reliving our precious family moments, the memories made, the laughter shared. I’m sitting quietly with the festive lights and colorful decorations that brighten our home, now that our pace has slowed. I’m smiling along with our mail carrier when he sees the snowmen on our porch, and I’m appreciating the way our neighbors added to the spirit of the season. Peggy made us tasty cookies and fudge, Connie took family photos, and Cindy texted us Christmas and New Year greetings!
But I’m especially holding on to the best gift of all–Jesus, who knows very well the hardships and heartaches of this life, who continues to be with us, here and now–and perhaps now more than ever. I’m holding on to his life’s example, his teachings, and his guidance for the living of these days. I’m holding on to the love of Christ, the love in which we can abide, celebrate, trust, find comfort, and be grateful, even in these especially challenging times.
I’m holding on to the truth that God’s love is infinite, steadfast, generous, and eternal–for every season of our lives.
Joyous Christmas, dear friends. Peace be with you all.
Love,
Karen 🙂
(Photos by Karen)
Simply Soul Searching 