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As a little girl, I relished stories – picture books and piles of novels, my grandparents’ tales around the table. I knew then, as now, that stories are one of life’s most profound ways to understand love, grab hold of deeper truths and recognize our common ground.

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From the blog

Made to be birds

don’t you remember what it was like to swim the air, float on open sky, alight on branches and sing your wild heart out to dwell at night in the shadow of parent wings, the honey warmth of feather’s nurture? somewhere you began to give away the shelter,...

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The Bridge

We gathered on a rainy Saturday afternoon at the visitor’s center for a hike to Terry Riley Bridge and the ceremony that would take place there. As rain fell and mud mucked, second grade Daisy scouts anticipated becoming Brownies. Under raincoats, the girls wore...

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Five Minute Friday: LISTEN

The very lilt of listen implies peace and comfort, deep breaths in and out, but don’t be fooled: Listening is risky. Yes, you might hear, be still, child. Or maybe just as likely, do that scary thing. Or fold that laundry. Or stop and look in her eyes. Hear what...

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Let’s connect on Instagram

 With the incredible Ginny Owens. Such a fantastic voice and heart. A joy to meet her in person, hear her stories and sing along to every last one of her songs. ❤️ @blindchickphotog
 . don't you remember what it was like to swim the air, float on open sky, alight on branches and sing your wild heart out . to dwell at night in the shadow of parent wings, the honey warmth of feather's nurture? . . . #poetry #freedom #birds #wings . . {Link to my full poem "Made to be birds" -- in profile.}
 Captivated by this quote and this image this morning.
 I can't stop thinking about the metaphor for all of us in the wobbly boards of that bridge, in the walk from one side to another, in the being named... and embraced. Part of the beauty in rites of passage is that they not only delineate the significance of a moment in time for those making passage, but also point to greater truths for those of us witnessing the rite. What I learned from a group of Daisy Scouts becoming Brownies. http://ashleymlarkin.com/2016/09/21/the-bridge/ (Link to blog post in profile.)
 Happy birthday to my great man...loyal, faithful, engaged, tender and wise. Thank you, Michael, for holding me tight and pushing me to soar. After 18+ years of marriage and 22 years together, you are still the best and the most and my favorite of all time. #withmywholeheart #42looksgoodonyou #happybirthdaymikey
 Staring at a massive and yet still partial to-do list for the day. Remembering God's mercies. In the morning when I rise, give me Jesus. #andcoffeeneverhurts #abidingwiththetruevine #lovingmyactuallife
 Basking in the first light this morning. Time alone journaling and in the Word. Aaaahhhhh. #breathingbetternow
 The very lilt of listen implies peace and comfort, deep breaths in and out, but don't be fooled: Listening is risky. Yes, you might hear, be still, child. Or maybe just as likely, do that scary thing. Or fold that laundry. Or stop and look in her eyes. Hear what hurts her and don't try to fix it. See, you never can tell. Link in profile.

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