I returned to my Montana townhouse after months away to discover a couple things missing. One was a camera purchased with money my mother left me. The other was my copy of The Creative Act. On paper, these are just objects—replaceable, no big deal. But that book wasn’t merely a book.
My daughter gave it to me on Christmas Day 2025, during a season when I’d endured more than words could capture. Inside, she wrote a note—simple, honest, brimming with belief. It wasn’t about the words themselves but what they carried: hope. And it worked.
That moment became my turning point. When understanding finally dawned, I stopped fighting who I was and embraced myself completely. I shed the version that never fit and stepped into something authentic.
A Creative. Fully.
Ten months later, I purchased this townhome in Montana. These days I split time between Maine and Montana, but Montana is where creative energy truly breathes. It feels like home in a profound way—not just geographically, but spiritually. This place nurtures something essential within me, allowing ideas to flow freely and authentically.
The landscape itself seems to understand the creative process, offering both solitude for deep work and inspiration through its raw beauty. So when I realized those items were gone, I faced a choice. Anger, or a different lens entirely. I chose something I’ve grown to believe deeply:
The Law of Reciprocity.
Perhaps they weren’t stolen—perhaps they were given. Jesus taught this principle in Ecclesiastes 11:1: “Cast your bread upon the waters, for you will find it after many days.” Maybe someone else needed that book. Maybe they needed that camera. Maybe they needed a spark exactly as I once did.
If that’s true, then nothing was lost—just passed forward to someone whose journey required exactly what mine had provided. When you believe this, even slightly, something fundamental shifts within you. You stop gripping tightly to possessions and start trusting in a larger flow of abundance.
The truth is, I already possess everything I need. I’ve felt this more clearly than ever lately—not abstractly, but in the daily reality that things appear precisely when they should. Resources, opportunities, connections, insights—they all seem to arrive with perfect timing when I remain open and receptive rather than anxious and grasping.
Call it luck. Call it synchronicity. Call it alignment. Call it God’s hand.
I call it player’s choice. I play my dealt cards as skillfully as possible, then trust in God. He gave me a ‘player’s choice card’—actually the Joker Card—and since you can’t play that card literally, you must have faith. Believe, trust, roll the dice, and sometimes God turns everything upside down.
This has happened repeatedly in my life and will again. I recognize this move: the have-faith-and-let-go move. It’s become familiar territory, this dance between effort and surrender, between doing my part and trusting the outcome to something greater than myself.
So thank you, God. I do love these games of chance and dances with odds. I also call it being taken care of. Once you feel that deep sense of being held and supported by the universe, you don’t truly lose things anymore. You simply release them.
So I release my precious book into the hands of whoever took it, sending them prayers for prosperity and creativity too.
Maybe someday they’ll choose to return it and share their story? I love stories—that would be win-win. God excels at win-win scenarios. Win-win-win-win is effortless for Him. I will simply maintain faith, wait in peace, and trust.
