Saturday, May 30, 2026

Finding Our Verdure

Dear Reader, 

Today I was reflecting on two seemingly opposing concepts: 

One is sadness. 

The other is refreshing meditation. 

Yet, upon reflection, I believe that recovery from the sadness that can take root in our own thinking may sometimes be found in the divine greenness that surrounds us. 

When sadness settles over us like a heavy cloud, we may not know why. Nothing seems terribly wrong, yet joy feels distant. Our first instinct is often to fight the feeling, analyze it, or run from it. These thoughts can immobilize us and leave us feeling disconnected from ourselves, from others, and from God. 

My experience in recovery has taught me that these are precisely the times when we need to pause and take refuge in the gifts God has so freely given—the cool, quiet shade of a tree, the gentle breeze, and the beauty of His creation. 

I am reminded of a quote by Jane Austen: 

"To sit in the shade on a fine day and look upon verdure is the most perfect refreshment." 

I am also reminded of the words of the Psalmist: 

"The Lord is my shepherd; I shall not want. 

He maketh me to lie down in green pastures: he leadeth me beside the still waters. 

He restoreth my soul: he leadeth me in the paths of righteousness for his name's sake." 

Both Austen and the Psalmist speak of green places where the soul finds rest. 

In truth, the green life of trees, grass, pastures, and growing things reminds us that refreshment is not always found in solving our problems. Sometimes it is found in simply sitting still long enough to notice that life continues to grow around us. 

The trees do not hurry. 

The grass does not strive. 

The flowers do not worry about tomorrow. 

Yet they grow. 

So when sadness comes, perhaps we need not demand immediate answers. Perhaps we can sit beneath the shade, breathe deeply, and remember that the same God who causes the fields to become green again has not forgotten us. 

Recovery has taught me that difficult feelings are often visitors rather than permanent residents. They arrive, stay for a season, and then move on. The heart, like a garden, has winters and springs. 

Today, if sadness walks beside you, find a patch of verdure. Sit quietly. Listen to the wind. Feel the warmth of the sun. Let nature remind you that growth is still taking place—even when you cannot yet see the harvest. 

The green things around us whisper a simple truth: 

Life remains. 

Hope remains. 

And so do we. 

May we each find our own patch of verdure—a place where God can restore our souls. 

Amen 

🙏🏻🧘‍♂️💕🤗☮️ 

 

Friday, May 29, 2026

Walking Together Into Truth


Dear Reader, 

I received a text this morning with the below quote by Kahil Gibran. 

          “It takes two of us to discover truth: one to utter it and one to understand it.” 

— Kahlil Gibran 

 

It made me reflect on how truth reaches and touches us. 

Most of us spend much of our lives searching for truth. 

We look for it in books, in sermons, in meetings, in conversations, and sometimes in the quiet moments when we are alone with our thoughts. Yet Kahlil Gibran reminds us of something profound: truth is often not discovered alone. 

  • It takes one person to speak from the heart. 

  • It takes another to listen with the heart. 

  • Truth is not merely information transferred from one mind to another. It is something that comes alive when understanding meets honesty. 

 

In recovery, we often hear someone share an experience we have not lived, yet we still see ourselves in their story.  

  • Their words become a mirror 

  • Their struggle becomes ours.  

  • Their hope becomes ours. 

 

The Big Book of Alcoholics Anonymous says, “the therapeutic value of one alcoholic working with another is without parallel.” Why? Because healing often begins when one person is willing to speak the truth and another is willing to hear it. 

This same principle appears throughout scripture. 

“In the mouth of two or three witnesses shall every word be established.” 

 

Truth is strengthened through relationship. We learn from one another. We strengthen one another. We become witnesses not only to facts, but to faith, hope, and transformation. 

Listening, then, becomes more than courtesy. It becomes a sacred act. 

When we listen deeply, we give another person the gift of being understood. When we speak honestly, we offer the gift of authenticity. Together, those gifts create space for truth to emerge. 

Perhaps this is one reason Jesus spent so much of His ministry asking questions and listening to people. He knew hearts are often opened not by lectures, but by relationships. 

Today, someone around you may be carrying a truth they need to speak. Someone else may be waiting for a listening ear. Perhaps you will be the speaker. Perhaps you will be the listener. 

Either way, remember this: 

Truth often comes through two people walking together. 

  • One to utter it. 

  • One to understand it. 

  • And both are blessed by the moment. 

With love and gratitude, 

  🙏🧘‍♂️💕🤗☮️