I finally looked hard through the window of memory, a neat square cut into the years.~Darin Strauss (From Half A Life)

I step back and look into the window of memories I've carved out while in Italy. Days spent with my husband exploring small villages by motorcycle have created new intimacies with him. I'm grateful for our dreamscape adventures in his beautiful country. 

Too, I'm reminded as I've spent time in a new culture, how much more alike people are than different.

The nextdoor neighbor patiently cares for her husband who is cognitively impaired after a stroke. The young, virile son of a loved one suffers a random accident while playing soccer. How will this change his life? His viewpoint?

People gather in outdoor cafes, earbuds in place, connected to their phones and screens. 

I stand in an elevator with an immigrant family. The mother wears an ankle-length, black and white print dress. My eyes are drawn to her worn sandals, her swollen feet. The father holds his toddler's hand. The little boy looks up at me and I smile at him. He waves shyly and says, "ciao." I meet the mother's gaze; her soulful brown eyes say with no words that she is strong. I wonder if my eyes communicate admiration. When she and her husband step out of the elevator, I notice an infant swaddled on her back. I wonder about her story.

I love the windows in Italy and craft a photograhic collage of images on my phone. Often pots of red or purple flowers grace the window sills. Ivy tumbles  over the ledges. Lace curtains flutter in the breeze. Decorative iron work fits over the glass and screens. I realize that sometimes the symbol of a cross emerges in the iron work. Perhaps what I feel when I'm drawn to these windows is the desire to see people more deeply--to remember how we all need the goodness of God and the hope and salvation available at the cross of Christ.

Many of you readers have shared with me over the past few months your passion to keep creating and pursuing the desires God has given you--growing your own food for your families and for your communities, writing music to uplift and inspire hope. Others of you have started businesses online to support other artists. You are submitting poetry and writing stories and books that reflect God's grace and values. The list goes on.

I implore you not to give in to overwhelm in our culture, or believe that your endeavors are too small or don't really matter. Now, more than ever, the world needs your voices, your perspectives on the ways of God--your stories, your creativity, the way you see through your window. Let the cross of Jesus emerge as you carve out your neat square into the years.

Sending love. God's peace to all of you.