The color of night falling, when color seems most pregnant in the wilds, gives way to colorlessness. But I don’t give way to you.

The color of night deepening with stars most outspoken, gives way to dawn rising. But I stayed seated when you entered the room.

The color of my heart breaking as bright and as fine as the morning, gives way to the land called Glad. But I would not.

Return daughter to your rest.

Love builds a house, its walls, and all its furnishings. Love gives and it takes away, but I just want to be comfortable tonight. I stay.

I could climb the mount of transfiguration. Instead I site my long list of obligation, as I heap them on top of me. I am not free.

But I…

Finding here, free means an invitation accepted to trade life for, life. Life to life we breathe and move and have our being. I choked. Are you here?

The color of love unfolding, when brilliance seems most blinding in my soul, gives way to oceans of fear. Then, your voice: I AM

Return daughter to your rest.

When we share our stories with each other, we unlock healing in our world. But what about when we stop sharing them with ourselves? We stop journaling, stop confessing the truth about our inner world’s struggles, stop listening whole heartedly to others who reflect truth back to us—truth we need.

It’s time to stop and begin again. It’s time to return—because our world needs us here, present. We need us here too. If the salt loses it’s saltiness how will it be made salty again?

Rebirth, again and again and again. Recreation in the hands of our Creator. He is the One we share our stories with in our journals and the thoughts racing through our mind too quickly to catch with ink. His spark resides in the friend we listen to and find the light of revelation gleaming back at us from. We need Him and so, we need each other.

His image and His voice is waiting to be heard in the little and not so little hearts and bodies we mothers serve. His image is born in the stranger, and the foreigner, and the downtrodden, the unexpected and the little—just as it was in the manger.

Seeking to see the unseen in the seen with you in this amazing season. May we see the son…He is near.

God…has spoken to us by his Son…through whom also he created the world. He is the radiance of the glory of God and the exact imprint of his nature, and he upholds the universe by the word of his power. -From The Letter to the Hebrews 1:2(b)-3


Hi, I’m Raynna Myers. I’m an author, photographer, homeschooling mom to six children and wife to an artist. This is where I share the journey.

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Find my book of prayers Pray, Like a Woman in Labor on Amazon.