When rain falls soft but constant, when my heart has been in shreds for days, when words don’t fit the magnitude of all that is in my head, what can I do but step into the garden barefoot? The damp soft earth bends beneath my feet, carries my weight and the weight of all IContinue reading “All Around the Earth Cries: Grace Grace Grace”
There are no fanfares these days, no shattering revelations. No mountain-top encounters followed by a plunge into the valley and a rocky climb back to the summit. These days there are no fanfares, only focused, steadfast footsteps towards the One my heart loves. He is here, He is everywhere, He is hidden in each moment.Continue reading “The Secret of Our Days”
Call this country what you may: the City of Wait, the Island of Hopes Deferred, God’s Silence, Barren Tree, Whittling Point. This land is rugged, ravaged, bleak, and spare; its inhabitants spend their days in continual twilight; their moments are occupied with any distraction to ward off each coming night. So. You have left theContinue reading “The Real”
I have become a stalker of beauty, for moments of extravagance. My life has recently intensified in terms of busyness; my schedule tightened and became rigid. My remedy: leave my desk, take long winding walks, steal time for conversation. It’s counter-intuitive and seems frivolous, but these stolen moments of beauty, these soul-feeding moments, bring meContinue reading “Beauty-Stalker”
So often, after the illumination, this pulling back, this fear of following through on the promise. Revelation means responsibility; grace means response; promise means faith; vision means action. What will you do to take ownership of the gift that has been given to you?
When the light is fading just behind the hills and slants in just right, the asphalt looks flecked with gold, like a river of night, shimmering star-studded, whispering ‘Follow, follow…’ So I followed, bare feet on baked asphalt, following the sun sparks round the corner past the cricket field to the mystery tree. The mysteryContinue reading “Streets of Gold”
So there I was, in the tangle of things, the mundane, trying to name things, grasping at presence. Naming anchors me, embodies me in the present, and affirms my joy and pain. Without this discipline, I would be swept away by the current of time and to-do lists, a wreck washed up on a distantContinue reading “The Naming of Things: Part Two”