These flowers were blooming in the pasture tonight and I saw them as I was working on the fence.

I believe in beauty.

I believe in coffee with cinnamon rolls. I believe that we were meant to love and be loved.

I believe that everyone should have a horse to love. I believe that God is good, that I can be anything I want to be, that I deserve the best, fullest life I can imagine and that you do too.

I believe in dreaming and in taking chances to make those dreams come true, in second chances and that just because someone else makes up rules, doesn’t mean I am a failure if I can’t follow them.

I believe that freedom has to be fought for when others try to take it from you. I believe in joy, in awe, in discovery, in surprise, in truth, in beauty, in integrity, in the hope of things to come, in the depth and breadth of the human spirit and the capacity of that spirit to love against all odds.

I believe that I have purpose in my being and that I was knit together by One who knows my true name and that no one ever has  or ever will exist in the same way I do or you do.

I believe the rising of our sun, the turning of our planet to meet that sun was meant to lift our spirit, to remind us that even in the darkest place, the light cannot be held back–it will come. I believe that goodness can be found in that dark place, in the faint twinkle of just one far off star.

So what happens when you don’t believe? When that flower is passed by unnoticed? When hope is lost? Is it even possible not to believe in something, anything? What happens to a soul separated from belief? Can those who surround you believe enough to hold you when you don’t or can’t believe?