The Valley of ....

Oh pretty play friends
come out and play with me,
I'll bring my dollies three,
climb up my apple tree-
Climb in my rain barrel,
slide down my cellar door,
And we'll be jolly friends
forever more



This valley in its splendor was a place that made me want to turn over every stone to see what was underneath. It was a place to return to someday so I could inspect the convergence of the three streams that wove together into one with a deeper current. A place to study the fertile grasses beyond each bank and every flower that dared to lift its head to the sky. During the few days stop of the wagon trail, it wasn't the valley itself that proffered the greatest wonders. It was small moments that held treasures that touched me most.

A moment of gentle conversation with new found friends allowed opportunity to share that we were deeper than the surface that most see or look for. A moment when our excitement of being together could not contain itself into just that one moment but began to twine ... one then two then three like a braid. A song, the lyrics and a flute coming together to create a harmony.

A moment when He allowed me to stretch to reach him. A moment where what I had to offer was accepted even if it was just a bowl of blackwine. A precious moment when he gave me something I had not expected , had not sought in return ... a smile. A moment of hope that one day I could finish what had been left unsaid, to remove a stone that had been placed on top another stone ... to tear down a wall.

So, You like to explore, bell? A simple question asked by another slave brought revelation. Yes, I suppose I do. It was not just the stones I wanted to lift one from atop another, not just one that I wanted to turn over and see what was beneath ... seeing what there was to see ... it was experiencing, exploring ... everything.