Red sort of day

My hands have been immersed in ripe red.
I take time to preserve what this land God has given us produces. 
What can be purchased at the market can not compare with that which grows before our eyes.

These are the days of raspberries and tiny Nanking cherries, bursting with juice, leaving sticky behind.  I fight bees, mosquitos, and birds to pick the choicest fruits. The canner spits steam as jars are sterilized, waiting to be filled. Sugar added chases bitter away.

Preserve the sweet for the days to come.

I remember that this morning, as I sat down with Jesus and my journal, a red pen fell on the floor. I wrote with it instread of my usual black or blue.

Here are the words He shared:

I write My love in your veins as deep as you allow My blood to flow through you.

Walk the road of surrender, the narrowest road of all but the only road that leads to true freedom.

Many are content to know that My blood covers them, accepting My salvation but never going further.

You, little one, have heard My invitation, have responded to My call to step into Me.  In that mingling and merging you have indeed lost your self and found Me.

This is why when our communion is interrupted you feel as if you wander blind.
This, I promise you, is good.  This is good indeed.

Yes I am thankful for the reminder that without Him I can not see.  Without Him I can not breathe.  Without Him I can not be who He created me to be. On this day of red, I am blessed beyond measure to know that my veins run with His presence. 

Preserve the sweet.