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Lindsey Gallant
Lindsey Gallant
Welcome. In this space we cultivate attention, curiosity, connection, and presence. Here, the small is significant, the broken is beautiful, and love is the deepest reality of all.

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sacramentofsmall
Behold! The first wild bouquet of the year. I love Behold! The first wild bouquet of the year. I love finding blooms for these tiny vases! #spring #springbouquet
It’s a sunny spring afternoon, perfect for headi It’s a sunny spring afternoon, perfect for heading out to the writing hut with a new book. As you can tell by my wool sweater and blanket, it’s still a bit chilly out here, but I’m excited to dive into this slim volume written in the early 1700s. #amreading #newbook #sacramentofsmall #thesacramentofthepresentmoment #jeanpierredecaussade #springreading #stillinwool
Thank you to my talented young friend @deea.onu fo Thank you to my talented young friend @deea.onu for this beautiful watercolour response to my words. This poem was inspired by a visit to the church and monastery at Orheiul Vechi in Moldova. The Caves at Orheiul Vechi I saw your prayer folded quick and pressed into the cleft of rock, our last meeting place. I spread the ink in the sun to dry, but not before your name smudged blue on my thumb. Tell me why you have such faith in limestone pores and the raw edge of these monks’ murmurs. I would have come without your coin and spread my rainbow flame over the whole greening valley And told you how indelible these syllables are, my kiss in every furrowed crease. #prayer #orheiulvechi #Moldova #amwriting #amwritingpoetry #poetry #poetsofinstagram
I took my love to the river… I took my love to the river…
Happy Orthodox Easter to my Moldovan friends! Hris Happy Orthodox Easter to my Moldovan friends! Hristos a Înviat!
Porch mornings are back… Porch mornings are back…
Enjoying Easter sunshine! Enjoying Easter sunshine!
Mary is the first to wake in the gloom of morning, Mary is the first to wake in the gloom of morning, to realize that this is the third day without him. First to creep to the tomb before even the birds awake, clutching her offering of spices. It is a garden and it is dark and though there are no flaming swords she feels the place is abandoned, perhaps even cursed. The smell of Eden that was beginning to be on his clothes, all gone. Now there must be myrrh and aloes to disguise the stink of death. And — lo! — she is first to see the shock of a gaping hole where her beloved’s body was meant to be. All is bewilderment. What could this mean? Not even left with the scraps so carefully bound? She runs to find the others because she cannot find him — she cannot find God. The men come, running, sleep dust in their eyes, to see what she has seen, but they do not understand either. There is nothing to see here, and so they go back home. Back to bed? Back to a house aching with hopes pierced? Back to breakfast pots and pans all out of tune because the melody of life, the song they had just caught on to, had suddenly dropped out of the score? But Mary stays. Oh Mary, she stays. Perhaps she is exhausted from the morning run. Perhaps there is something within her that will not let go. Perhaps she has been wrestling with an angel all night, and that is why she is not surprised to see two of them when she finally screws up her courage to look into the empty tomb. “Why are you weeping?” they ask. 
“They have taken him. I don’t know where he is!” And here we find our own voice with Mary’s. We are weeping because of everything that has been taken from us — the husband who did not wake up, the hair that fell out after the second round of chemo, the home that was blasted apart by enemy shelling, the hopes that have withered into burdens too heavy to hold. “I don’t know where he is!” God, where are you?
 {Read the full blog post at lindseygallant.com} #easter #easter2023 #easterencounter #whereisgod #marymagdalene #resurrection
Here's a free 8 day Easter devotional/journal I cr Here's a free 8 day Easter devotional/journal I created to help keep your heart centred in the reality of resurrection. This guide will lead you through five simple movements each day, with space to journal your reflections and prayers: 💐 Posture 💐 Passage 💐 Presence 💐 Praise 💐 Purpose Just follow the link in my bio for your free PDF download. #easter #easterdevotional #freeeasterdevotional #riseheart #liftupyourheart #heisrisen #freedevotional #scripturejournaling
This card was made for me by one of the women in t This card was made for me by one of the women in the prison we visited in Moldova. Check out my blog for the story of our visit there, "I Am Liuba." (Link in bio)
Today was the first morning the sun made its way a Today was the first morning the sun made its way around to our northeast facing bedroom window. I love it when spring sun wakes me up in the morning. :) #spring #springsun #signsofspring
The view toward the river this morning! I’ve had The view toward the river this morning! I’ve had a very snowy welcome back to the island.
At Toronto Pearson with my Tim’s, dreaming of sp At Toronto Pearson with my Tim’s, dreaming of spring in Moldova…
Tanya’s daughter picked these tiny flowers for m Tanya’s daughter picked these tiny flowers for my room! I ❤️ small blooms. It’s so special that I am seeing the first flowers of spring in Moldova this year. #springflowers #smallbeauties #sacramentofsmall
City by day, city by night, and my little friend L City by day, city by night, and my little friend Lola!
We just finished 2 days of training with the Cru s We just finished 2 days of training with the Cru staff here in Moldova - digging deeper into our stories, writing towards healing, and finding our voices on the page. This time has been such a joy! I got to spend one last night with both Tanya and Leslie, our small but mighty Your Story Matters team. @leslie.leyland.fields
Moldovan beauty ❤️ Moldovan beauty ❤️
My time in Moldova so far has been very rich. Ever My time in Moldova so far has been very rich. Everywhere we go - from the Ukrainian refugee centre to the women’s prison to a women’s conference - people are opening their hearts and experience to each other, discovering they have a voice and a story to tell. A story that has deep meaning, not only for themselves but for others. It is a precious thing to be entrusted with the stories of these women. And I have been enjoying Moldovan food and hints of spring along the way! ❤️
At “home” in Chișinău! At “home” in Chișinău!
It is a dull morning, lionlike for the beginning o It is a dull morning, lionlike for the beginning of March, with a biting north wind sharpening the edges of muddy snowdrifts. I step through the gritty crystals in my familiar hiking shoes, hat scrunched low, to take the road I always take in these before-school walks. I have walked this particular road as therapy, as labyrinth, as prayer, and as protest. If pavement could talk, this stretch would have a lot of dirt on me. Despite its familiarity, this country lane has been the scene of many small epiphanies. It is no Zion, but I am yet a pilgrim, even to the summit I have called Drunk Skunk’s Hideaway, and down to the stream where the kids take their bikes to catch minnows in spring. A thin place, the ancients might have called it. Grey clouds meet grey road today, and nothing feels too inspiring. I am ok with this. I pause to greet the rosebush, even dirtier now than in January, with one or two winter-gnarled hips still attached. I nod to a spruce in the field, one that still has its full top after the big fall storm. Where the road bends to go up the hill, I stop to listen to the water as it gurgles from the culvert beneath me into a pool with a soggy beer carton at its edge. None of this is particularly beautiful, but it is familiar. Loved in a well-trodden way. These simple landmarks have become friends, companions in the quest to live within my boundary lines and make peace with limitations. I know this road. When I turn to head for home, the wind hits me full in the face, clawing across the corn field. The pungent smell of silage from the cow barns hits too. I tuck my face down and think about the days ahead. In a week I will be on a road completely different and new to me - in Moldova, a tiny Eastern European country on the fringes of war. It’s not the first place I thought I’d travel to after all these years, but it feels fitting, like the road was meant to lead there all along. I am excited to meet friends I have only seen through a screen, and share stories with women and men who are looking for the deeper meaning in their own lives. The thing is, I’ve spent so much time and thought in the place of small that I wonder... [continued in comments]
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  • Sweet Pea Seedling
  • The Giver in the Gift
  • The Caves at Orheiul Vechi: A Poem
  • Easter Encounter: Mary’s Name
  • Stories from Moldova: I am Liuba

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