I’ve attached a picture from Saturday. I’m amazed (and really, not surprised) at how beautiful and vibrant Elizabeth is, after all she has gone through in the past year. Her dedication to her health and well being, along with the courageous way she took on this biggest of challenges life can throw at us, is at once amazing, inspiring, and really, indescribable by words.
We spent Saturday sleeping in, spending some time on our land, looking at the progress of our new home, taking a hike at a favorite spot with the dogs, and attending the joyous wedding of a close friend of mine. We are so thankful to be experiencing life in this way, and enjoying the abundance we are so blessed with.
Our love and gratitude to each of you for supporting us with your energy, meals, words of care, thoughts of hope and health and so much more.
Steve (+ Elizabeth)
We came across this poem again, which Elizabeth wrote last August and still holds so true:
You can’t go to the depths of the hole, where the waters are dark and cold. In that cave there are sharks lurking where you cannot see and your movement will startle them with fear. You can’t go there, where you’ll gasp for air and not reach it. Your snorkel is full with water; your scuba tank has run dry.
You can’t go to the deep depths of the woods, where the trail appears to go in every direction. For when you follow it, it is gone. You are lost, walking deeper into the thorny thicket.
Instead you must only go to where the Great Blue Heron steps stealthily at the ponds edge; where the fiery glimpse of the Oriole catches your eye and and the breeze enlivens the hairs on your skin.
You can only go to the place where the golden sun shimmers across the landscape; where the sunflowers bob in the breeze and the stars expose the vastness of your being.
For it is only here; where life exists. Where you breathe deep and free. And rest in the wake of the world.