#renewal — Public Fediverse posts

A Stray Thunderstorm

A stray thunderstorm visited this morning—

as though it had wandered from the flock,
lost its place in the procession of weather,
and found itself alone above our town.

It arrived without ceremony. No long darkening of the horizon, no warning drums rolling in from the west—only a sudden stirring of leaves, a low mutter beyond the rooftops, and then the rain, falling hard against the windows as though the sky had remembered something painful.

I wondered what makes a storm stray.

Had it broken away from some greater disturbance? Had the wind carried it where it had never intended to go? Or had it come precisely here, to this small patch of earth, bearing a message meant for no one in particular?

We often speak of straying as though it were a failure—a departure from the correct path, a drifting from purpose. But perhaps some things must stray before they can arrive. Seeds stray from their fields. Birds stray from their familiar routes. Thoughts wander from the work before us and discover something hidden. Even grace, at times, seems to stray across the borders we have drawn for it, falling on the undeserving, the unsuspecting, the unprepared.

The storm did not remain long. It spent itself quickly, leaving puddles trembling beneath the trees and drops shining along the telephone wires. Soon, the sun returned, almost apologetically, illuminating everything the rain had touched.

By noon, there may be no evidence that the storm was ever here.

But for a few moments, the morning was interrupted. The ordinary world was shaken awake. The garden drank. The dust settled. The air became new.

Perhaps that is what a stray thunderstorm is for: not to alter the whole season, but to interrupt one morning—to remind us that even a wandering cloud can carry thunder, that brief things may still be powerful, and that what appears to have lost its way may arrive exactly where it is needed.

What Is My Sequel?

We live in the age of the sequel.

Nothing ends anymore.

The hero survives the explosion. The villain’s hand rises from the rubble. The supposedly final chapter contains a scene after the credits. A character who died twenty years ago returns through cloning, memory, the multiverse, a prequel, a reboot, artificial intelligence, or some creative loophole in the mythology.

Perhaps we have become suspicious of endings – whether they are happy or sad.

Or perhaps endings are just bad for business.

If a story succeeds, we do not allow it to finish. We stretch it. Repeat it. Repackage it.

Volume follows volume.

Season follows season.

Universe follows universe.

And somewhere along the way, a single story becomes a franchise.

I wonder whether we sometimes do the same thing with our lives.

We discover a role that works, and then we keep writing sequels to it.

The successful person must remain successful.

The pastor must continue being the pastor.

The artist must keep producing.

The parent must remain necessary.

The activist must always be preparing for the next protest.

The wounded person must keep telling of the trauma.

The admired person must maintain their image.

Even our identities can become franchises.

We keep returning to the same personas because we’ve worn them so long.

People recognize them.

Perhaps we recognize them too.

But eventually a dangerous question arrives:

What if that story is finished?

Not my life.

That story.

That version of me.

That particular adventure.

Maybe one of the great spiritual disciplines is learning to recognize when the credits are supposed to roll.

When “The End” flashes on the screen and the only sound is the film flapping around and around on the take-up reel.

Jesus spent much of his life telling people that something was ending.

An age.

A way of measuring power.

A way of imagining God.

A way of dividing the righteous from the unrighteous, the insider from the outsider, the important from the insignificant.

And Christianity makes an astonishing claim about the apparent ending of Jesus himself.

He dies.

There is no heroic escape.

No secret tunnel underneath the cross.

No last-minute rescue by ninja disciples.

Jesus is dead.

Period.

His body is put in a tomb, and the tomb is sealed.

For a brief terrible moment, the story is allowed to end.

And then comes resurrection.

But resurrection is not quite a sequel.

That may be important.

The risen Christ is continuous with Jesus—wounds, memory, voice, love—and yet strangely different. People who knew him sometimes fail to recognize him. He appears unexpectedly. He passes through locked doors. He eats breakfast and then disappears.

This is not Jesus II: The Empire Strikes Back.

It is something stranger.

Resurrection does not merely continue the old plot.

It transforms what a story can be.

Which makes me wonder about my own life.

Perhaps I have spent years assuming that the future must be a sequel to the past.

Another project.

Another accomplishment.

Another book.

Another song.

Another role.

Another version of something or someone I have already been.

We ask children, What do you want to be when you grow up?

Later we ask adults, What are you doing next?

Almost nobody asks:

What part of you is complete?

What could you lovingly allow to end?

What character no longer needs to return for another season?

What war does not require another battle?

What identity has carried you faithfully to this point but does not need to follow you into the next chapter?

What part of you needs to die?

I find myself wondering:

What will be my sequel?

And then an even more unsettling question:

Do I have one?

At first that sounds frightening.

We have been trained to believe that there must always be something next.

But perhaps the absence of a sequel does not mean the absence of a future.

A seed has no sequel.

It becomes a tree.

A caterpillar has no sequel.

It becomes something that would have been nearly unimaginable from inside the chrysalis.

Autumn does not produce Summer II.

It becomes winter.

And winter, somehow, becomes spring.

Maybe what comes next in a human life need not be the continuation of what came before.

Maybe I am not waiting for another installment.

Maybe I am waiting for transformation.

That changes the question.

Instead of asking,

How do I keep this story going?

I can ask,

What is this story becoming?

There may even come a point when the greatest act of faith is to stop demanding another season.

To leave some characters behind.

To let go of unresolved subplots.

To accept that certain doors will never reopen.

To stop resurrecting things that are meant to remain buried.

And then to stand before the unknown without insisting that it resemble anything that has already happened.

The culture says:

Coming soon: more of the same.

The spiritual life whispers:

Behold, I make all things new.

So perhaps I do not want a sequel.

Perhaps I want resurrection.

And if resurrection is real, then the most interesting part of my story may not be what happens next.

It may be what I become when the old story finally has the courage to end.

Living things endure through renewal, not invulnerability.

Further reading: https://emotusoperandi.medium.com/how-can-i-help-part-1-4142df8a3cf1

#LifeboatAcademy #StayHuman #Soil #LivingSystems #Renewal

Living things endure through renewal, not invulnerability.

Further reading: https://emotusoperandi.medium.com/how-can-i-help-part-1-4142df8a3cf1

#LifeboatAcademy #StayHuman #Soil #LivingSystems #Renewal

What's one small act of kindness or patience that changed your perspective? I'd love to hear your story. #ThoughtOfTheDay #NatureWisdom #PersonalGrowth #LifeLessons #Mindfulness #Hope #Renewal #InspirationalQuotes #Reflection #GrowthMindset
https://stayingalive.in/thought-of-the-day/when-every-ending-begins-to.html

What's one small act of kindness or patience that changed your perspective? I'd love to hear your story. #ThoughtOfTheDay #NatureWisdom #PersonalGrowth #LifeLessons #Mindfulness #Hope #Renewal #InspirationalQuotes #Reflection #GrowthMindset
https://stayingalive.in/thought-of-the-day/when-every-ending-begins-to.html

✮ Long Way Down ✮

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✮ To That Potted Plant ✮

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Stumbling Block

It seems I have always been stumbling, tripping over the unintended in a fog of wandering wonder.

The mist has been ever around me, my cloud by day. I am enveloped by mystery.

You do indeed love to surprise me, O God;

two girls find shiny stones in a fountain and their joy chases away the despair at not finding a loved one,

the hospitality of friends lightens the weight upon a heavy chest from a returning to what was and the traveler can breathe again into what will be,

a mother’s words and the night breeze dries a daughter’s tears and she can smile at the deep thrum of a bullfrog,

lovers lie for a moment in the morning and the frustrations of yesterday fade into the quiet beginnings of another day.

It is time then.

I rise up into the bone crackling morning, my body protesting, my spirit already stretching out along the places I will see.

Inside, I find I am ready for more stumbling.

July 29, 2022

Stumbling Block

It seems I have always been stumbling, tripping over the unintended in a fog of wandering wonder.

The mist has been ever around me, my cloud by day. I am enveloped by mystery.

You do indeed love to surprise me, O God;

two girls find shiny stones in a fountain and their joy chases away the despair at not finding a loved one,

the hospitality of friends lightens the weight upon a heavy chest from a returning to what was and the traveler can breathe again into what will be,

a mother’s words and the night breeze dries a daughter’s tears and she can smile at the deep thrum of a bullfrog,

lovers lie for a moment in the morning and the frustrations of yesterday fade into the quiet beginnings of another day.

It is time then.

I rise up into the bone crackling morning, my body protesting, my spirit already stretching out along the places I will see.

Inside, I find I am ready for more stumbling.

July 29, 2022

Broken Chair

I rescued the chair from outside someone’s apartment with the hope of fixing it and having it become a welcome member of our family.

But, as often happens, it sat around in various places waiting for me to find the time to repair it.

Finally, I decided it was one more project I did not have time for, and so yesterday I put it out on the sidewalk in the hopes that someone would take it home.

It sat out there all through yesterday in the rain and the sun, lonely, awaiting a new friend. A few people paused to look but then drove away. Periodically I would look out my window to see it still sitting forlornly there.

Then this morning I noticed an older gentleman walking past who began to inspect the chair. He picked it up, put it on his back and walked away.

It is a beautiful chair. It just needs to be repaired, and I am sure its new owner will do just that.

I don’t know about you, but I feel a lot like that broken chair, waiting for the gentle hands of someone to put me back together again.

I wait, broken, with the hope that those hands will touch me, I will be healed, and I can have a purpose again.

July 10, 2015

Broken Chair

I rescued the chair from outside someone’s apartment with the hope of fixing it and having it become a welcome member of our family.

But, as often happens, it sat around in various places waiting for me to find the time to repair it.

Finally, I decided it was one more project I did not have time for, and so yesterday I put it out on the sidewalk in the hopes that someone would take it home.

It sat out there all through yesterday in the rain and the sun, lonely, awaiting a new friend. A few people paused to look but then drove away. Periodically I would look out my window to see it still sitting forlornly there.

Then this morning I noticed an older gentleman walking past who began to inspect the chair. He picked it up, put it on his back and walked away.

It is a beautiful chair. It just needs to be repaired, and I am sure its new owner will do just that.

I don’t know about you, but I feel a lot like that broken chair, waiting for the gentle hands of someone to put me back together again.

I wait, broken, with the hope that those hands will touch me, I will be healed, and I can have a purpose again.

July 10, 2015

Restlessness

A Monday Monday Song

I’ve been thinking lately about what I need.
There’s so much wrapped up in me.
I’m tired of being split in two.
Has the dye been caste or can
I melt into someone new?

I need to simplify find some order to this mess
but there’s no cure for my restlessness.

The taste of my life is bittersweet
like this wine-soaked rag they force on me.
I’m caught between earth and sky
I can’t connect to either.
Eloi. Eloi. Why?

I need to simplify find some order to this mess
but there’s no cure for my restlessness.

It seems I am always cleaning my temple.
I’m always cleaning house,
trying to throw the money hangers out . . .

An Iaonus Production 8.26.24

Lyrics August, 19, 1996

Restlessness

A Monday Monday Song

I’ve been thinking lately about what I need.
There’s so much wrapped up in me.
I’m tired of being split in two.
Has the dye been caste or can
I melt into someone new?

I need to simplify find some order to this mess
but there’s no cure for my restlessness.

The taste of my life is bittersweet
like this wine-soaked rag they force on me.
I’m caught between earth and sky
I can’t connect to either.
Eloi. Eloi. Why?

I need to simplify find some order to this mess
but there’s no cure for my restlessness.

It seems I am always cleaning my temple.
I’m always cleaning house,
trying to throw the money hangers out . . .

An Iaonus Production 8.26.24

Lyrics August, 19, 1996

https://medium.com/the-story-well/the-psychology-of-endings-and-beginnings-3e3537bf5bef

The Psychology of Endings and Beginnings

#collapse #beginnings #endings #renewal #medium #storytelling #fiction #life #lifelessons

https://medium.com/the-story-well/the-psychology-of-endings-and-beginnings-3e3537bf5bef

The Psychology of Endings and Beginnings

#collapse #beginnings #endings #renewal #medium #storytelling #fiction #life #lifelessons

https://www.fogolf.com/1306322/hong-kong-private-sports-clubs-must-pay-land-premiums-or-open-doors-as-leases-end/ Hong Kong private sports clubs must pay land premiums or open doors as leases end #GolfClubs #LandPremium #PrivateClubs #Privileges #renewal

✮ An Ache That Pricks Even Thorns ✮

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Storm Surge

In the end,
will you be faithful?
That is question.

When the storm has come and gone,
when what you thought was precious has been stripped away,
when you sleep in darkness wondering if the lights will ever come back on,
when your life in the flash of lightning reverts back to the everyday of your sisters and brothers in the warzone,
when your plane to those destinations is grounded by the thunder’s roar?

Will you awake to new resolve for justice?
Will you spend less time before the screen and more time present to loved ones and those in need of it?
Will you leave the ground to alight among the troubled?
Will you listen to them?

Will the power that comes on be in you,
through you,
glowing out through your eyes,
electrifying,
filling you with a compassion so compelling
you become a wire
among many
channeling
love and peace
to the world?

June 2, 2015

Storm Surge

In the end,
will you be faithful?
That is question.

When the storm has come and gone,
when what you thought was precious has been stripped away,
when you sleep in darkness wondering if the lights will ever come back on,
when your life in the flash of lightning reverts back to the everyday of your sisters and brothers in the warzone,
when your plane to those destinations is grounded by the thunder’s roar?

Will you awake to new resolve for justice?
Will you spend less time before the screen and more time present to loved ones and those in need of it?
Will you leave the ground to alight among the troubled?
Will you listen to them?

Will the power that comes on be in you,
through you,
glowing out through your eyes,
electrifying,
filling you with a compassion so compelling
you become a wire
among many
channeling
love and peace
to the world?

June 2, 2015

A quotation from Twain

I followed their eyes, as sure as guns, there was my eclipse beginning! The life went boiling through my veins; I was a new man! The rim of black spread slowly into the sun’s disk, my heart beat higher and higher, and still the assemblage and the priest stared into the sky, motionless. I knew that this gaze would be turned upon me, next. When it was, I was ready. I was in one of the most grand attitudes I ever struck, with my arm stretched up pointing to the sun. It was a noble effect.

Mark Twain (1835-1910) American writer [pseud. of Samuel Clemens]
Novel (1889), A Connecticut Yankee in King Arthur’s Court, Part 3 “The Tale of the Lost Land,” ch. 6 “The Eclipse”

More about this quote: wist.info/twain-mark/84647/

#quote #quotes #quotation #qotd #twain #marktwain #aconnecticutyankee #pose #relief #renewal #triumph #eclipse

A quotation from Twain

I followed their eyes, as sure as guns, there was my eclipse beginning! The life went boiling through my veins; I was a new man! The rim of black spread slowly into the sun’s disk, my heart beat higher and higher, and still the assemblage and the priest stared into the sky, motionless. I knew that this gaze would be turned upon me, next. When it was, I was ready. I was in one of the most grand attitudes I ever struck, with my arm stretched up pointing to the sun. It was a noble effect.

Mark Twain (1835-1910) American writer [pseud. of Samuel Clemens]
Novel (1889), A Connecticut Yankee in King Arthur’s Court, Part 3 “The Tale of the Lost Land,” ch. 6 “The Eclipse”

More about this quote: wist.info/twain-mark/84647/

#quote #quotes #quotation #qotd #twain #marktwain #aconnecticutyankee #pose #relief #renewal #triumph #eclipse

✮ Words Are Things ✮

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https://www.dw.com/en/us-iran-hezbollah-spar-over-murky-terms-of-ceasefire-deal/live-77573728. Not so much a #Memorandum of #Understanding - more a Memorandum of MISUNDERSTANDING, which will prove rather less than convenient, & lead to a #renewal of #war.

https://www.dw.com/en/us-iran-hezbollah-spar-over-murky-terms-of-ceasefire-deal/live-77573728. Not so much a #Memorandum of #Understanding - more a Memorandum of MISUNDERSTANDING, which will prove rather less than convenient, & lead to a #renewal of #war.

What Did I Accomplish Today?

What is the 
measure 
of a 
good day?

Accomplishment 
can be a strange 
idol. 
It promises 
peace 
after one more 
task, 
one more sermon, 
one more song, 
one more post, 
one more 
finished 
thing. 

But then 
the day 
ends, 
and my soul 
still has to 
live 
with itself.

Here in the 
twilight, 
rather than 
asking
what I have 
done,
a better 
measure 
might be:

Did I become 
more free today?

Did I become 
less bitter?

Did I tell 
the truth?

Did I release 
what was 
not mine 
to carry?

Did I move 
even slightly 
toward 
love?

A clear mind 
and 
a better heart 
may be 
holier than 
a completed 
checklist.

So maybe 
my evening prayer 
is simply this:

Lord,
I release the day.
I release what I finished
and what I failed to finish.
Clear my mind.
Soften my heart.
Let me sleep as one who is loved,
not as one who must prove his worth.
Amen

YouTube Tipp ▶️
#WidowsBay — #Season2 #Renewal | #AppleTV
https://youtu.be/pqufiMFmGiY?is=Z9i1yriPpAhvf37Z

Duran Duran - Paper Gods

I share it again with love:

https://gnulinux.studio/app/#/playlist/G8u06fUHtV6PtfJEkCRDQa/show

User: pubglug
Pass: musicisawesome

It's legit solid top to bottom.

I had vinyl of Rio as a kid ... this album tho, it is so consistent and rhythmic.

#music #postpunk #newwave #renewal #music #duranduran #navidrome #jam #sysadmin #selfhosted #selfhost

@bobdobberson 👀 lol

Duran Duran - Paper Gods

I share it again with love:

https://gnulinux.studio/app/#/playlist/G8u06fUHtV6PtfJEkCRDQa/show

User: pubglug
Pass: musicisawesome

It's legit solid top to bottom.

I had vinyl of Rio as a kid ... this album tho, it is so consistent and rhythmic.

#music #postpunk #newwave #renewal #music #duranduran #navidrome #jam #sysadmin #selfhosted #selfhost

@bobdobberson 👀 lol

The First Green Thorn

I returned
expecting only stone.

The same arch.
The same hollow.
The same bouquet
browned at the edges
like a prayer
left too long
in the weather.

I had learned
the discipline of kneeling.

I had learned
how to make peace
with the wrong place.

There is a strange holiness
in returning
to what cannot answer.

There is a strange faith
in speaking
to silence
until silence becomes
less empty.

But this morning,
at the foot of the cenotaph,
where the rain had gathered
in the crack
between two stones,

something had risen.

Not a flower.

Not yet.

Only a thorned green stem,
small enough
to be missed
by anyone
who came looking
for a miracle.

It leaned toward the light
with the awkward courage
of a thing
that had not been told
it was impossible.

I almost wept
from fear.

Grief I knew.
Absence I knew.
The old wound
had become a room
I could enter
without striking a match.

But life—
life arriving
without permission,
life answering
when I had stopped
asking,
life wearing thorns
before blossoms—

this was a more terrible mercy.

For if something grows here,
then I must change.

If the stone has cracked,
then I cannot spend forever
calling it final.

If roots have found me,
if green has entered
the vocabulary of my mourning,
then perhaps I have been wrong
about the dead.

Perhaps not all that is buried
is finished.

Perhaps not all that is empty
is abandoned.

Perhaps the former self
does not return
as the boy who believed,
but as the wound
that has learned
to shelter a seed.

I touched the stem
and blood rose
from my finger.

So this, too,
is resurrection:

not the absence of pain,
but pain made porous
to light.

Not the grave undone
all at once,
but a thorn
breaking through stone,

a small green alphabet
beginning again

where the epitaph
ran out of words.

The Cenotaph Triad

The Cenotaph

The Roots Beneath the Stone

The First Green Thorn

Nietzsche and Nick Cave

From Mari Ruti’s Reinventing the Soul loc 4470:

At the same time, I feel that Nietzsche explores quite compellingly the enigmatic relationship that at times exists between destruction and resurrection, for he recognizes that for new forms of life to emerge, something within the subject’s inner life must be shaken to the core so as to shatter the well-established structures that hold it immersed in, and therefore confined to, outmoded psychic conditions and conventions.

From Nick Cave’s Faith, Hope and Carnage.

But what I want to say is this: this will happen to everybody at some point – a deconstruction of the known self. It may not necessarily be a death, but there will be some kind of devastation. We see it happen to people all the time: a marriage breakdown, or a transgression that has a devastating effect on a person’s life, or health issues, or a betrayal, or a public shaming, or a separation where someone loses their kids, or whatever it is. And it shatters them completely, into a million pieces, and it seems like there is no coming back. It’s over. But in time they put themselves together piece by piece. And the thing is, when they do that, they often find that they are a different person, a changed, more complete, more realised, more clearly drawn person. I think that’s what it is to live, really – to die in a way and to be reborn. And sometimes it can happen many times over, that complex reordering of ourselves.Cave, Nick; O’Hagan, Seán. Faith, Hope and Carnage (p. 107). Canongate Books. Kindle Edition.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=cfKYImFP_Pw&list=OLAK5uy_mKzBStg8ZwVFvvXwvegykcI66kS17he9U&index=2

And everyone has a heart, and it's calling for something
We're all so sick and tired and seeing things as they are
The horses are just horses and their maines ain't full of fire
And the fields are just fields and there ain't no law

And everything is hidden, everyone is cruel
There's no shortage of tyrants and no shortage of fools
And the little white shape dancing at the end of the hall
It's just a wish that time can't dissolve at all

WildWords – Lord of the Flies

The flies come first
as rumor,

black letters of punctuation
in the cellar air,

small restless witnesses
to what I have not buried.

They find the hidden place
before I do,

the sweetness gone sour,
the secret body
given back to its elements.

I thought death
would announce itself
with trumpets,

or thunder,

or at least
a proper lament.

But here it is
in wings,

in the frantic scripture
of a thousand tiny bodies

writing circles
around the bulb.

Lord of the flies,
lord of the unclean corners,
lord of what ripens
when I refuse to look,

you do not create the death.

You only reveal it.

You rise from the wound
and make it audible.

You gather
where something has ended
and been left unnamed.

So I stand in the basement
with paper strips hanging
like sad yellow prayers,

with poison in the air,
with a broom in my hand,

and I know
this is not only about flies.

Something in me
has also gone untended.

Some old grief
has softened in the dark.

Some resentment
has been born in bitter warmth.

Some fear
has bred in the damp boxes
of the soul.

And the outer world,
faithful as a mirror,
begins to reflect what is within.

The dead thing calls forth wings.

The buried thing
becomes a cloud.

Lord above,
but Lord beneath even this,

teach me to descend
without disgust,

to find what has died,
to name it,
to remove it,

to open the window
where I can,

to let the clean wind
do its slow ministry.

For even the fly
is a witness,

even decay
is a kind of bell,

even infestation
can become annunciation

if it leads me
to the hidden corpse,

if it leads me
to the truth,

if it leads me
at last

to bury what is dead
and bless what still
wants to live.

### 🌟 #Pop version
A #nostalgic pop #interpretation #emphasising #emotional #renewal, #melodic #warmth and #reflective #memory.

#Memory #lane – #AI Pop #Song | #My #Original #Lyrics, My #Voice ( #Suno AI)

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=8qL3IEWwSWs

### 🌟 #Pop version
A #nostalgic pop #interpretation #emphasising #emotional #renewal, #melodic #warmth and #reflective #memory.

#Memory #lane – #AI Pop #Song | #My #Original #Lyrics, My #Voice ( #Suno AI)

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=8qL3IEWwSWs

### 🌟 #Pop version
A #nostalgic pop #interpretation #emphasising #emotional #renewal, #melodic #warmth and #reflective #memory.

#Slow #down – #AI Pop #Song | #My #Original #Lyrics, My #Voice ( #Suno AI)

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=mQ6foPmWTZY

### 🌟 #Pop version
A #nostalgic pop #interpretation #emphasising #emotional #renewal, #melodic #warmth and #reflective #memory.

#Slow #down – #AI Pop #Song | #My #Original #Lyrics, My #Voice ( #Suno AI)

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=mQ6foPmWTZY

### ⚡ #EDM version
An EDM #interpretation #emphasising #rhythmic #intensity, #emotional #release and the #transformative #energy of #memory and #renewal.

#Slow #down – #AI EDM #Song | #My #Original #Lyrics, My #Voice ( #Suno AI)

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=3dqaLWGqPyQ

### ⚡ #EDM version
An EDM #interpretation #emphasising #rhythmic #intensity, #emotional #release and the #transformative #energy of #memory and #renewal.

#Slow #down – #AI EDM #Song | #My #Original #Lyrics, My #Voice ( #Suno AI)

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=3dqaLWGqPyQ

creates semantic nodes and clusters #THE #POPPIES #AMERICAN #BAND semantic-search.aepiot.ro/advanced-sea... #JAPAN #RENEWAL #PARTY chatgpt.com?prompt=Analy... Bridgy Fed: fed.brid.gy/bsky/globalv...

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‘Reacher’ Receives Early Season 5 Renewal At Prime Video

Prime Video has renewed its hit series Reacher for a fifth season ahead of its Season 4 premiere…
#NewsBeep #News #US #USA #UnitedStates #UnitedStatesOfAmerica #Entertainment #PrimeVideo #Reacher #renewal
https://www.newsbeep.com/us/637211/

‘Reacher’ Receives Early Season 5 Renewal At Prime Video
#CancellationsandRenewals #News #PrimeVideo #Reacher #Renewal

https://deadline.com/2026/05/reacher-season-5-renewal-prime-video-1236890046/

Forest floor renewed
Life returns in greens and golds
Sol comes through again

#Haiku #OneHaikuADay #WritersCollective #writingcommunity #BackToHaiku #May #Spring #Forest #Renewal #Green #Gold #Yellow #Flowers #Sol #Sun #Poetry #Ohio #USA #Photography #2026

May 4, 2026

Rise & Shine (Christian Music) = New Christian music to share God's love 💫 - #God #Jesus #TheLord #Praise #ChristianMusic #Bible #Music #Song #Faith #Hope #SpiritualJourney #Connection #BibleStudy #Prayerful #Grace #Devotion #Inspiration #YouthMinistry #Renewal #Worship #Community #Uplifting #PositiveVibes #YoungBelievers #ModernWorship #GospelMessage #TrueCalling #Praise #Commitment #Trust #SpiritualStrength #DivineLight - https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=

It's done. I've entered my activities from last year. Just in the nick of time. 2 days left!
#Microsoft #MVP #Renewal #MVPBuzz

For Now and Forever (The Inn at Sunset Harbor) "It felt like she was driving through space, heading into infinity. Heading toward the beginning of the rest of her life" Sale: $2.99 to FREE by Sophie Love Rating: 4.2/5 (8,694 Reviews) #Romance #SmallTown #BeachRead #Contemporary #Renewal #BookSky

For Now and Forever (The Inn a...

Shining Light of Love (Christian Music) = New Christian song 🎵 to inspire believers! - #God #Jesus #TheLord #Praise #ChristianMusic #Bible #Music #Song #SpiritualGrowth #Transformation #Worship #Faith #Hope #Purpose #Love #Praise #Community #Service #YouthGroup #Inspiration #Devotion #Fellowship #Prayer #Guidance #Jesus #Church #Renewal #Salvation #Grace #Redemption #Soul #Strength #Trust - https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=xTT5_bORvmY

You don’t fall behind when you rest. You return better.

There’s a quiet pressure to always be moving, always doing, always making progress. But there’s another side to that rhythm.

Rest isn’t falling behind. It’s part of moving forward well.

Sometimes the best thing you can do is step back just long enough to come back with clarity.

#Rest #Renewal #Restore #SlowDown #IntentionalLiving #Sabbath

Guide My Soul (Christian Music) = Just dropped a spirit-filled song 🙌 for Jesus! - #God #Jesus #TheLord #Praise #ChristianMusic #Bible #Music #Song #Faith #Hope #Love #Light #Savior #Journey #Prayer #Community #Worship #Grace #Redemption #Salvation #Gospel #Praise #Fellowship #Spiritual #Devotion #Inspiration #Faithfulness #Trust #Scripture #Purpose #Sacrifice #Renewal #Service - https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=

In the Quietness

in the quietness of the trees
i knelt on bloodied knees
and collapsed upon the ground
agonized alone

then nothing broke the silence
i rose up renewed
and moved off back down the hill
the leaves rustled in my hair

November 1, 1987