These people. My people. I miss them. I need them. I am ready to welcome them back. Soon.

These mountains. This picture taken today around 6pm. And lately, these mountains seem dark to me.

It could be my imagination. I just keep thinking they should be greener.

I thought about it more on the way home from work just an hour ago. I always say these mountains have stories to tell. They stand tall and proud. They watch over us. And nearly every day they look slightly different than the day before. Actually hour by hour, they look different.

So what story do you think they are telling? I think they look at you and me, and think, “These people. My people. I miss them. I need them. I am ready to welcome them back. Soon. Soon.”

I think there is a sadness in these mountains. Oh, I know that they have been around for years and years...for generation after generation. But what if we are their children, and they want to gather us in to hear their stories and share their beauty?

Because stories...are meant to be heard.
And meant to be seen.

What if we are the light carriers, to make these dark mountains bright again? And it will take a lot of us to do that.

I heard from a light carrier today. Actually from quite a few of you. But one in particular. She’s a young light carrier...pictured with me from a few months ago. I can’t identify her fondness for me...but she wanted to have her picture taken with “the man who wears blue shoes.”

Most days, that’s me.

Her mother messaged me today, and said I could share: “My daughter and I visit the Moonpie store every day on vacation. She is missing your store. When she was playing with her Barbies this morning, they were on vacation in Tennessee and visiting the Moonpie store. The Ken doll was "Mr. Man In The Blue Shoes."

That’s light, folks! It is to me. And I’m here to tell you, look around. There are light carriers everywhere. You’re a light carrier, too. I noticed, and so do others.

So I want to tell you all today, keep shining.

You’re doing so good. Every day. Then light turns to dark, and you go to bed. You wake up, and the dark gives way to light. Morning. Another day. A new day. And look how good you’re doing!

I could be wrong about these mountains. But I think they need more than the morning light. They need light carriers. Like you. And a thousand others.

The good news? These mountains. They have survived for generations. And they have the patience of a thousand years. They will wait.

Until you come again.

Blessed be the light carriers. They are a gift to all of us. And to the mountains.