Whatever this day finds you facing, remember to weave a little love through it all. Today began with strong coffee, a reminder of unity and variety in the spiritual gifts we're all given (1 Corinthians 12, look it up, it's good stuff) and an ancient prayer: "Oh God, who art the Author of love and … Continue reading Love.
The wind is still gusting here, and the rain has returned. To be honest, I’m loving it. I have the greatest respect for the power of nature and I know any of the trees could turn loose of this saturated ground at any moment. Risks understood, I slipped out back a few minutes ago for … Continue reading Scene from a Sunday stroll
Note to self: Breathe. The amount of energy you are investing in worrying about what may or may not happen over the next hours, days, weeks, or month is much better directed towards moments of prayer and planning. Breathe. Breathe. Breathe. The amount of energy you are investing in worrying about who may or may … Continue reading Breathe.
This morning I took my coffee to the front porch to enjoy the soft morning breeze before the humidity kicks in. The wildflowers are all but spent, easily mistaken for tall, gangly weeds at this point, but the birds love this little patch of tall seeds, and because of them, so do I. Soon enough … Continue reading Morning
An ancient book of prayers, a not so old mandolin, and a hot cup of fresh coffee. It was among these things that I greeted this Tuesday morning. I could play the strings, but to do so would interrupt the morning chorus from the resident birds. Perhaps another day I would attempt to play along, … Continue reading The music of morning
If I could share one scene from my day today with you all, it would be from the morning drive. Just off Snow Camp Road is a field full of green young leaves. Maybe soybeans, maybe sorghum, beautiful and lush regardless. It’s not my usual route anymore, so I try to go a bit slower … Continue reading Monday morning scenes
Evening rays of the setting sun are reaching through the western trees, falling between the leaves, painting brilliant patterns with lingering caresses of light. Perhaps the sun will miss playing in the deep green of day, and the trees are wishing the sunlight would stay.