Everything New

Easter marked another celebration of new beginnings, as we contemplated the new life brought by the Resurrection. But today marks a new season of endless mercy as we celebrate Divine Mercy Sunday. I seem to live my life by the liturgical calendar, and after the joy of new beginnings and new seasons marked by the Church’s year, I find myself entering the same beginnings and seasons in my writing.

“So if anyone is in Christ, there is a new creation: everything old has passed away; see, everything has become new!”–2 Corinthians 5:17

After I retired, my pen didn’t really move regularly for several years. Oh, yes, a sporadic page here and there, but no real commitment. I thought that when I no longer had a daytime job, I would certainly have the time to write, as I had always dreamed.  I prepared before retirement by converting one of the kids’ bedrooms to my long-sought-after library retreat. I painted it in a soothing sea-glass color, the palest green, chosen for its name, Blanket.  I filled that room with my books and journals, treasures from the sea, and my grandchildren’s and family’s mementos, thinking I would surely never leave this marvelous place. I imagined sitting all day and writing. 

But after retiring, I didn’t write: my hands became arthritic, another grandchild came into the world, we got chickens, I quit restaurants and fast food and spent days cooking for my family to my heart’s content. Our local writing chapter disbanded; I quit meeting with other poets; I had to give up crocheting but took up gardening—yada, yada, yada—all excuses that dragged on for a couple of years.

This year, however, liturgically and secularly, has taken my pen, placed it confidently in my hands, and pulled itself across years of blank pages.  What is different? What happened?  

Some months ago, my daughter took me hiking in the mountains, and on the solid rock, the wind moved me, the creative spark became a candle, and when I got home, the wick grew into a flame. Again, my daughter asked me, “What is your word for the new year?” And I came up with replenish. I re-joined the CWG writing community, in which I had been on the outskirts for a while. I started showing up, and the pen began to urge my hand to move.  Lent came, and I began making commitments—in my prayer life and my writing life.  God sent encouragers and stirred up memories long buried.  And then, I couldn’t stop the pen from moving in my hand.  

As Easter arrived, the season of my writing life that had been dormant for years revived, like a new shoot from a dying stump that received fresh water.  So here I am in another season, beginning    again with Divine Mercy Sunday. I am learning new things, struggling to keep up with my pen, and grateful for a life governed by the liturgical year that feeds my Julian calendar with its spirit.

“Do not be conformed to this world, but be transformed by the renewing of your minds, so that you may discern what is the will of God—what is good and acceptable and perfect.”—Romans 12:2

Copyright 2026 Paula Veloso Babadi

Edited by Gabriella Batel

Photo credit Wal_172619_Pixabay