I’m excited to share about a personal, healing project I have been working on for a few years. As I have been taking photos of the river during my walks, I began writing poetry to express what I learn and feel as I  seek to hear what God wants to teach me.  This is a vulnerable, scary genre newer to me, though I still have a book of poems I wrote when I was about eight years old. I have found the beauty observed and lessons learned from this practice transformative.  I gathered 40 photos (plus a few) representing what the river “spoke” to me that day. I have tried to express these thoughts through poetry. Next, I offer a related scripture for reflection (mostly from Psalms or the Gospels), reflection questions, and a link to a worship song and hymn to help take the meditation deeper. I then close each chapter with a blessing (Celtic style). I have loved compiling these, and  I hope you will find them encouraging.  I will share a few samples here in my blog, but I’m looking for about 5 volunteers to read several chapters of the whole thing, offer input, and help me get the word out when it’s published. Of course, you will receive a complimentary copy. Here is what I have written in the introduction to The River Speaks: A Journey of Grief, Grace, and Gratitude. Four years ago, I moved to Connecticut. I had recently lost my beloved husband of 45 years and retired from over four decades in full-time ministry. I left the home where I had lived for over thirty years. Suddenly, life became very different. Everything changed. My new home sits beside the Connecticut River. Unbeknownst to me when I purchased it, my backyard also borders a gentle stream. I grew up in Florida with a pond behind my childhood home, and I’ve always found water to be a source of life-giving refreshment. So when I found myself surrounded by water, I felt deeply grateful. It felt like a gift. In this new season of life, I began a daily spiritual practice that includes a several-mile walk along the riverbank. No matter the weather, I walk with my dogs beside the flowing water, attentive to what God might be speaking to me through nature. Along the way, we always pass a fountain—a reminder of the One who is the true fountain of life. Early in these walks, Psalm 36:5–9 began to resonate deeply with me. It became a daily companion. As I approach the fountain, I recite those verses aloud. They never grow old. As I survey the river, the landscape, the sky, and the joy of my dogs, I am reminded of God’s immeasurable love—for all creatures. I think of the shallow sips and deep gulps I’ve taken from God’s river of delights, and I stop in awe. He is my fountain of life. In His light, I see light—even when darkness tries to crowd in.

Your love, LORD, reaches to the heavens, your faithfulness to the skies. Your righteousness is like the highest mountains, your justice like the great deep. You, LORD, preserve both people and animals. How priceless is your unfailing love, O God! People take refuge in the shadow of your wings. They feast on the abundance of your house; you give them drink from your river of delights. For with you is the fountain of life; in your light we see light. (Psalm 36:5–9)

Over the years, I’ve taken countless photos of the river, capturing its changing beauty. A few pictures included in this book were taken at other rivers that are also dear to me. Each day, the river has something new to teach. Through its voice, I have heard whispers of comfort, joy, patience, wisdom, and courage—all gifts from its Creator, my Creator. My Abba, Father. God, in His kindness, gives us senses that help us experience Him more fully. Visual and written art open my heart to His presence. The psalmists knew this well, and Jesus often spoke in vivid, visual language. While Scripture is my foundation, I’ve also found that images, poetry, music, and nature deepen my connection with God. In this collection of meditations, you will find reflections built around images and poetry, each accompanied by a passage of Scripture (usually from Psalms or the Gospels), a brief thought for reflection, a piece of music to enhance your meditation, and a blessing to close. During a recent pilgrimage to Ireland, I came to treasure the beauty of Celtic blessings. They feel like gentle wraps of God’s love. I’m moved by the fact that God’s first recorded words to humanity were a blessing (Genesis 1:28), and Jesus’ final words before ascending were also a blessing (Luke 24:50–51). Our Creator’s first and last words to us were blessings. Let that sink in. The first time someone spoke a blessing directly over me, I wept. It felt intimate, powerful, and deeply personal. To this day, spoken blessings humble me, strengthen me, and remind me that God’s love walks with me wherever I go. So as you journey with me along these riverbanks—through images, words, songs, and scripture—may you feel the nearness of the One who flows with life and love. And may you receive the blessing He is always eager to give. Let’s begin with this prayer:

May these words of my mouth and this meditation of my heart be pleasing in your sight, LORD, my Rock and my Redeemer. (Psalm 19:14)