Spring air was cold on our cheeks. Our noses turned red as we trudged through the shrub, mud and overgrown paddock to the bonfire.
The willows let evening light through their swaying branches.
Excitement was evident on their faces, and in the pitch of their voices, rising above each others. They scrunched newspaper, and threw twigs until the fire was lit, and we stood, letting it warm our faces.
I watched the glow on theirs, as flames danced and flung sparks high into dusk sky.
They counted as the stars appeared, counted and counted until there were too many, and eyes were heavy.
I thought about the beauty of God, of His creation, and of the moments like these that have been woven into the fabric of my life.
I thought about my urge to tell the stories that make up my days, and let people see the reality of Him without the negativity of man-made, dead religion.
The same way my three year old tugs on my hand, leads me, tells me to close my eyes before she lets me in on a surprise, or a drawing, or a discovery - I want to lead those that read my words. A gentle tug, a 'come and see'.
Moments, and stories, to help you see Him weaving the colours in your world too.
I can't stop.
I'll keep chasing beauty, capturing light, playing with words.
My few days away there were just the perspective I needed.
Thank you for your kind, always encouraging thoughts.