It has been a long year. Can I REALLY be well again? "Thank You for another day," I whisper each morning. The sheets on my bed feel good. The light coming through the window is a gift. How do I want to live out this day? I look at the African violet on my windowsill. If I don't water it, it will die. I see that my spirit is no different. I am beginning to listen a lot. The silence is my water.

What do I have to give You, God? A flock of gulls flies overhead. They are so beautiful, their black wings against the morning's blue sky. Last night I watched the same sky, covered with stars. I feel the ocean water which laps at my toe. I walk among the rocks, picking up quartz and crystal. What do I have to give You?

I close my eyes and listen. You say to me, "Love the beauty of my creation." I wait. There must be more. But there is no more. And I am left hearing the words again. Love the beauty of my creation.

Is everything holy? I learn that when the upper limb of a cottonwood tree is cut crosswise, the grain reveals a perfect five-pointed star. The star is understood as a sign of the Great Spirit's presence and the tree's holy nature. Even the breeze blowing through the cottonwood leaves is understood to be its prayer... Who would ever notice, in my busy life, that a star is secreted in a cottonwood tree? It makes me wonder, are there equally hidden depths inside of me?

At the core of me is God. Suddenly I see the fury of the night as startling and beautiful. I am humbled right to my knees, but this time not from fright, but from reverence. I see the same storm through new eyes. I bow my head.

"Majestic, mysterious God. Great Spirit, which moves through all things. I will never know you fully. I will always be learning to love you. But YOU are love. I am sure of that. I believe that behind all fury is love. I do not see it or feel it right now. But I trust it is there."

And for a long moment I let the trust fill me.