a swift current of sorrow

I am exhausted from swimming in and out of the current. I long for a boat of bliss, to float above grief, to get out of the river.

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letting go of leaves

Stick figure silhouettes cling to dangling color that remains . . . dropping one by one . . . leaving them exposed, leafless . . . .
The woods betray us. We are vulnerable.

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a light between here and there

Library of Congress, Prints & Photographs Division, FSA/OWI Collection, [reproduction number,LC-USF34-032090-D

I wonder how long we will live along this dark highway. . . in the dailyness of nurturing, guiding, growing, of learning to be faithful in small things.

Because sometimes, I wrestle with the limits of my little light.

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blessings for the broken part four

Blessed are those who hunger and thirst for righteousness. . .
When did we buy the lie that happiness is the means to happiness?
That what feels good is right and what is painful is wrong?
Hungry is not comfort. Thirsty is not pleasure.

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blessings for the broken, part two

Library of Congress, Prints & Photographs Division, FSA/OWI Collection, LC-USF34-041923-E

We used to wear our grief.
Black for a day, a month, a season, a year . . .
To show loss.
To let the world around us know we carried sorrow.
Appearance had meaning.

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My mind replays tapes of failure when I lie in bed too long awake.
Things neglected. Things forgotten. People neglected. People forgotten.
Failure that I’m not really sure is always failure.

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all I ever have to be

I really am deeply grateful for my life. But there are moments, seasons when discouragement gets the upper hand. Frankly, I’m amazed at how quickly and easily I am discouraged. I’m more fragile than I would like to think. I started out the morning feeling sorry for myself. Sorry about myself. A look in the […]

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