Tension, when tendedtransforms into ideas.Kindly BE with it.Amen. This visual prayer was created using the Prayer Squares creative practice. Prayer Squares are designed as a bite-size creative practice to lead you to surprise, delight and vision in your prayer life. Join me this year to create one Prayer Square per week. Find out more about the practice HERE.
The origin of my story is essential. Where do I begin my tale? — at my birth?near the roots of the land I live on?do I reach back to Eve? Or further —when only animals roamed the earth?River veins of Mother Earth from long ago touch my present toes. My soul roots grow into her ancient knowing.I am connected to the beginning.The origin of my being holds secrets of becoming. As I weave thanks giving,I re-member my story. • The origin of our story is essential. Where do we begin our human epic? — at our individual birth?through a historical…
At the canvas,I stand as I am,present to the rising,in communion with Divine Love. Quiet pulses in my ears,sadness rolls down —a lost whisper emerges,trickles down my cheek.Wet faded memory. Why am I crying — again?My instinct is to berate myself,apologize for me being me,dismiss the emotion.Today, I choose different. I rest in the pause.Here, I find the voice of tears. They hum,“Feel me. See me.I am part of you.Why hide me? Why hold me in?If you wipe at me too quickly,you’ll never have access tothe blessing I bring. If others don’t welcome your tears,this is not your concern. Afterall,…
Swirls of celebration make their way over the dusty road,a heart traveling in the center,a heart that stands for justice,flips the common story of wealth as King —this Love kneels at the feet of the traveler,this Love gently washes the grime away,this Love hovers over the lonely,this Love invites the one who never fit to a feast,this Love holds the space with love.On the day when violence comes to destroy,Love says, “I love you.”In this, everything changes.As Love rains down on those who have ears,they in turn,pour love over Love,wet the seeds of Love,sit vigil and wait untilone day, after…
Trees bloom again —rings wider,branches longer,flowers brighter;a familiar Spring cycleof evolution. Familiar facesdrift through my memory —those who encountered meone year ago,three years ago,ten years ago,thirty years ago Friends whose paths have curved away from mine. Do I live in a locked boxin their memory the waythey live in mine?Faint impressions loopof prior connection—A laugh we shared,a certain point of view agreed upon,a break of misunderstanding,a comment made in haste. The pace of minutes age the drapery of skin I wear,despite my choosing. Mindful, daily steps offer the vessel of soul I bearto evolve with the seasons. I can’t change…
