Aren’t our stories about belonging? Whether we are living our story or writing a story, deep down we need to belong somewhere.

I seek my belonging in many places:

In the mist of early mornings after a night of rain, in the blowing snows whipping me around in winter, in the crisp crunchy leaf smell of fall. On trails of wide dirt and rocky steps near the rumble of water or through the trickle still flowing across the path. Up to high points where the forests and mountains go on into forever and deep in the thick growth of trees cool in the heat of the day.

With friends who know me and those I’m still getting to know, with horses most especially who share their wild spirits and warm acceptance, with family both by birth and by proxy, with fellow believers in love and in peace and in the belief that we are all worthy.

I believe that God puts people, places, and situations on our path so that we will find the belonging we seek so hard and need in our lives, for we were not meant to be alone. Those are blessings should we choose to recognize them and rejoice, and, ignore the loud voices around and inside us that continue to tell us we don’t or can’t belong.