A Blog for a New Beginning

At August 27, 2018
By Karina Machado
In The spiritual path, This writer's life
6

Every morning outside my bedroom window, the kookaburras shout their delight to the darkened sky. Every morning, their rowdy singing wakes me, and I smile. They celebrate before the light has come, you see. They have faith that the sun will rise.

Every evening, as I’m closing the blinds, I see the bare blossom tree outside my library. There it stands, seemingly stripped of beauty, but come spring, masses of pink flowers will burst forth like a celebration. Like a love song. Enough beauty to make you gasp. The buds sleep in the naked branches, though we can’t see them. They’ve been growing in the dark, nourished by a process we can’t see, a mystery that’s been unfolding deep in the dirt where the roots reach out.

Waiting for spring: the bare blossom tree in my backyard.

Nature is a treasure chest of wisdom, if only we are willing to learn. There are times when her profound lessons stand out starkly. Like the last few months. The book I finished writing, The Legacy of Love, will not be published. That chapter of my life is closed. Thank you to everybody who followed along with encouragement and support over the previous couple of years. I’m so grateful.

Now, to new stories. My heart brews them all day long; each a kind of prayer, stories of love, hope, forgiveness, healing, inspiration, grace and faith. Some, I will transfer to the page, others are inside stories, so to speak. Some are lived, like my work with my sister on Ripples of Love, like the writing workshops I’m holding at the haven that is Cara House with a courageous group of children who’ve survived challenges that would make most of us crumble. Or the choir I’ve joined. Singing alongside others, I live myself into a new story, one where I’m learning, finally, that it’s ok to let my voice be heard.

My sister, Natalie, spreading Ripples of Love.

Isn’t that the lesson of the kookaburras? They sing their love to the dawn, not caring if they wake the sleepers. We too are called to share our love without a care for how, or if, it’s received. What matters is the love song—and the faith that writes it.

Kookaburras raise their voices before the sun has risen, because they know a new day is coming. And so do I.