Tonight the moon was full, and glistened over the curling waves of the Caribbean Sea.  The light glowing through the nearby clouds was a rich, dark blue, and the leaves of the palm trees were sharply outlined against the luminescent sky.  “What?” you say?  “This doesn’t sound like Iowa, Toto!”

 Christmas Eve was a little different for us this year.  You see, a midnight candlelight church service, ending with the congregation singing "Silent Night" acapella to flaming candles held high has always been "Christmas" to me.  Our beautiful, picture-perfect snowfall yesterday changed those plans...

Last night I went on a journey filled with wonder and awe, and am still feeling the tingles that infused my body with Spirit during the walk.

The air was clear and crisp, and the black sky was filled with tiny points of light - so much so, the Milky Way seemed to be a glowing river of light.

An angry labyrinth walk.  How can that be?  Trust me...it happens!  This morning I started out with my head down, and my walk deliberate and quick.    Although the morning was clear and brisk, and frost covered all with diamonds - I was blinded by the anger.  Oh, my eyes glimpsed the beauty, of course.  But my heart was closed to the wonder of it all.  Even Gus the Wonder Dog's ecstatic bounding through the prairie, which usually makes me laugh, went unseen.  I was angry, by golly, and angry I would stay.

Today is an absolutely perfect day.  Perfect!  So perfect, in fact, that I kicked off my Birkies at the prairie labyrinth entrance and walked the labyrinth barefoot.  This has to be the first time I've ever walked the labyrinth barefoot in November!

 I am beginning a new practice - a new way of connecting - that may seem odd, especially for one who calls Soul of the Prairie "home." 

I am walking the prairie labyrinth. 

The labyrinth is calling me - no, the labyrinth is compelling me anew- into intentional walking, "be-ing," and reflecting on a daily basis. 

I am glad, because I've missed my time on the labyrinth.  Really missed it.  You see, in the daily busy-ness of caring for Soul of the Prairie and the wonderful souls who visit, I have set aside my own need for time on the path.  Oh, yes... I've been gratefully walking the labyrinth with groups, and tending it with lawnmower and hedgetrimmer.  But I haven't thought I've had the time for awhile to just "be" on the path - the very thing I encourage everyone else into!

So, I'm now taking a good dose of my own prescription and putting one foot in front of the other as I open my heart once again to all the labyrinth holds for me.  Each day new insights and a stronger connection with the Holy are infusing me with the pure knowledge that walking the prairie labyrinth is exactly what I must do. 

And so, the journey begins...

"We are standing on holy ground, and I know that there are angels all around...."  This hymn by Geron Davis, based on Exodus 3:5, is a favorite of mine.  I get goosebumps when singing it as I remember all of the places that have been "holy ground" for me.

To say that Alaska is wild, that Alaska is big, that Alaska is beautiful is sort of like saying the most gloriously beautiful sunset - one of those that invite you to remember Gerald Manley Hopkin's "all the earth is alive with the grandeur of God" poem - is just a sunset.

The call of the wild is singing in our ears this night as we gather our stuff and our selves for a two-week journey into the wilds of Alaska.   Most of our time will be spent touching earth and sky in places far off the beaten path.  Our two sons who call Alaska "home" will make sure of that!

Abundance.  Pure and simple, generous and astounding abundance fills the gardens and prairie with an overwhelming sense of the goodness of Creation and Creator these days.   As we drink in the abundance and beauty of this spectacular season, there is so much that it dribbles down our chin - leaving spots of wonder over our very being.