“Just
pay attention,
then patch
a few words together and don’t try
to make them elaborate, this isn’t
a contest but the doorway
into thanks..”
Patching together words of thanks…
858. Waking to raindrops pattering on window panes
859. boys and puppies
860. Leaning into the small of his back as we ride fields, wind in our hair
859. boys and puppies860. Leaning into the small of his back as we ride fields, wind in our hair
861. Flannel pillowcases embroidered with the words of His promises, little heads laying down
862. Chairs propped up against tree trunks, perches for little eyes to peer into birdhouses
863. Golden finches lining the clothesline, waiting their turn for the feeder
862. Chairs propped up against tree trunks, perches for little eyes to peer into birdhouses
863. Golden finches lining the clothesline, waiting their turn for the feeder
864. Boys diving and laughing in fly swatting contests
865. Kind words offered by kinder friends
866. Grinding flax, stirring porridge…beginning well
865. Kind words offered by kinder friends
866. Grinding flax, stirring porridge…beginning well
867. Laughter from the toy box, the same box my dad once rode in as a boy
868. Cherries ripening out in the orchard
869. Dolly kisses
870. Petunias’ heavy perfume filling with memories of Grandma’s backstep
872. swallowtail butterflies lighting on sumacs
873. my brother’s handpicked roses, gracing little girls, mamas and grandmas after Sunday services–for me? really?
874. Annie Flint’s poems
875. warmth of Grandma Voskamp’s hand, squeezing in time as we sing hymns
876. ‘Take heart, daughter,‘ he said, ‘your faith has healed you.’
*photos:
pathwork quilts hanging on the ladder Darryl made for our gathering room
Joshua with puppy
Kai and Shalom in the third generation toy box
my brother, John-boy, with his roses
Joshua with puppy
Kai and Shalom in the third generation toy box
my brother, John-boy, with his roses
