Since the quarantine quarter has flipped upon “stay at home” heads, my husband and I have been on many “walk-abouts” throughout the Outback of Houma and Thibodaux.  . We’ve walked, trekked, and hiked throughout trails of Godly love. We have bonded under Live Oak glimmer leaves and white-bloom Magnolia trees. We’ve chatted while Mocking birds added to the tea delight conversation. Woodpeckers clanked as souls planked o’er streets of deep heart beats. . If you want to reconnect with your spouse, take an engaging walk. Make sure to leave all distractions behind, especially your phone. Place all pettiness at home, and find your home in your soulmate’s heart-emblem eyes once again. . Want to Spruce up your kinship to the hearts? Put on some comfortable clothes and stable tennis shoes and stabilize the marriage banks. Stroll under Blue Spruces and watch your husband pick a delicate love note.  . The effect of walking reciprocates joyful tendencies.  . Pace yourself under the can

  This is a memory I’ve never blogged about. I love blogging because, I can write about feelings, love, faith, and somehow, lengthen my dad’s legacy. An imprint was left on my soul that spans the meadows of Cades Cove, which was my dad’s favorite vacation spot. On my heart, he tied a forever memory knot. . His faith also traversed the mountains of the misty Smokies. My dad’s surmountable trust in God bequeathed throughout “heartlands”. . One evening, gentle faithfulness nested in our townhome. My dad was in the end stages of his earthly life and was preparing his soul to go heavenly home. Even though, my dad wasn’t fully coherent due to morphine, he still comprehended God’s love. He still understood ounces of hope. I opened the creased pages of his coffee stained Bible. The word of God was torn and disheveled from years of usage. This was a Bible of a man after God’s own heart. . I opened to Hebrews… . Now faith is confidence in what we hope for and assurance about what

 I  looked outside my apartment window today and saw two smiling boys riding bikes. One boy was being gently assured by his mom. She was teaching him to ride without training wheels. A sweetness passed by the sliding door window as she held on to his two-wheeler. She guided him like a lighthouse attendant directing a ship ashore. They fiddled through the grass, grinning and almost winning the non-help trophy.   I took in the sweet sugar sight. I thought to myself...life still goes on. Through all the chaos, trials, and even a pandemic, life goes round and round like bicycle wheels.  While a bouncy boy is achieving growing grounds, someone is entering the gates of Heaven. While pedaling under a fun-filled sunshine day, droughts of struggles earth beneath.  While a cheerful heart nestles and Mom says, “Pedal!”, a pandemic surrounds secure apartments. But, a helmeted boy keeps pushing for “let me go, Mom!” take off! His life is filled with content and joy. Treading circle