Morning

Morning always comes a little too soon yet somehow carries promises of newness, mercies, and hope. I carry with me habitual optimism so the breaking dawn looks to me like joy and vision spanning the gap between darkness and light. I travel inward, deeply, as the colors move and change before me. I ready myself … Continue reading Morning

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Hope and Soiled Hands

When small seeds of hope, planted in fresh soil, are stolen by the ravens it's easy to become weary. We toil in darkness on hands and knees. Prayer lifted in desperation can seem to hit empty air when the harvest waits. Still, I've found hope doesn't lie in seed. Hope lies in the waiting soul … Continue reading Hope and Soiled Hands

Around the Table

The question was posed to me, "What is God doing in your life?" I don't always have an immediate brilliant answer and maybe that's my own pride trying to come up with a brilliant answer. Today, I thought I'd answer that question as if we were sitting around my table, coffee in hand, talking. God … Continue reading Around the Table

Autopilot

Autopilot - when I go through the motions Head down, resolved, ready to do whatever it takes to make it happen And then I sometimes break as resistance pushes me to realize I'm not built to maintain; I'm built for greatness. Not greatness I've built with the persistent efforts of my hands, but greatness that comes … Continue reading Autopilot

Buried

  I've been buried. The weight of the dirt is pressing hard against my skin. I feel bruises forming but in true 'tough girl' fashion, I pull hard to hold in the tears and fight to stand against the pressure. The earth sticks and cakes my lungs with mud as I breathe deep and will … Continue reading Buried