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Seeing God

  • whenever you are far from home

    On Friday, April 29 th, 2011

    Ifind a bit of blue sky wrapped in a nest. And wherever you are when you catch glimpses of heaven, you are home.   ~Notes long from home, in Portland at the Q conference :: :: Lord, you have been our dwelling place… ~Ps. 90:1 :: :: ::

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  • Do We Really Experience the Presence of God?

    On Wednesday, April 06 th, 2011

    We’d just turned at the cemetery there at Johnston’s Corners, towards the chapel and Sunday morning worship. And there, across from the Wood’s farm, the Farmer had swerved to miss two roosters that were literally crossing the road. Banties and out strutting in all their finery right over the yellow line. And when I had gasped a little, relieved to miss the flash of thei...

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  • When it’s Time to Turn… {April Nature Calendar}

    On Tuesday, April 05 th, 2011

    Even from right there at the kitchen window, it’s like you can see it. ::   How He’s doing it again, just like a promise, His, Doing it again, a promise kept, and I never have to worry, and it’s almost a witnessin...

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  • How to Worship Right Where You Are

    On Thursday, March 17 th, 2011

    Just quiet days here of being and loving and giving and making and walking …. walking slow enough to know the deep joy of really seeking and seeing. :: ::   Worship is a way of seeing the world in the light of God. ~Abraham Joshua Heschel :: :: :: You, God, are my God, ...

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  • Why the Present Moment Matters

    On Wednesday, March 02 nd, 2011

    A morning in March, a child notices it, how a leaf holds its fruit right there in the bowl, and it’s true, just remain moment by moment in the Vine and there is the promise. Of yielding more in the end than an unlived life. Of fixing the heart to Him so that under His wing we can fly. “See this one, Mom?” Kai holds the apple high. “A leaf! And look how...

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  • weekends are for patches of light

    On Saturday, February 05 th, 2011

    :: May all your wanderings this weekend, kindest friends, lead to the shafts and islands and patches of light where you bask in the warmth of Him. :: :: All’s grace, :: :: :: We too pray that the Book Club @ DaySpring is a bit of patch of light this weekend? If you are looking to...

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  • The Habits that Make all the Others Possible

    On Wednesday, January 12 th, 2011

    When I told her that a habit is something that you wear, I felt it, how I caught on something, snagged. For days, I unravel. Forget figuring out how to form a habit. I’m not there yet. First, what are the few habits worth wearing? You can only layer so much. We put away the Christmas tree, box up the Jesse Tree ornaments, leave the infant in a manger figuri...

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  • a year in pictures

    On Thursday, December 30 th, 2010

    All the days held God. I don’t think I knew that. ...

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  • Father of the Rain and the Colors of a Tear-Drenched World

    On Wednesday, October 13 th, 2010

    We followed the hearse the day we took my mother-in-law to the cemetery. I had thought it: the ebony black of that hearse, it intensified the colors of the world. I could see the sky reflected in the hearse’s polished steel. The maples stood at attention, lining both sides of the road. Daisies, white and quiet, punctuated the ditches.  This, her last trip...

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  • How to See God: The Light of Brokenness

    On Wednesday, October 06 th, 2010

    He points a finger at me, shakes it like a wand, like a prayer, like shaking me awake. “I need to talk with you.” Gordon’s on his tiptoes, looking for me through the lunch crowd, punctuating each word high in the air with his left pointer finger. “I’ve got a question for you.” He’s stabbing the air. I feel poked in the chest, pushed up against the back of my chair...

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  • when you ‘re feeling a bit burdened…

    On Tuesday, September 28 th, 2010

    On a Monday morning in late September, the leaves and the rain barely falling, I wake and all the old demons of agoraphobia and anxiety attacks wake too. And I weep hard and I wrestle hard and I fall hard, and I rake my hands through my hair and I turn around, around, in the kitchen, barely breathing, looking for the way through. And it’s on that Monday, after the Farmer ...

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  • the only hunt that will ever feed the hungry

    On Monday, September 27 th, 2010

    They line up, empty vessels, crocks he brought home. Those hard-working hands had set the aged pottery on the table. And every week I fill them with beauty, just with what I can find. Every week, shades and hues and color of the sky and earth meeting in petals. Every week I fill them, the ceremony of the gathering. Because I am discovering that life, just as it is, is about loo...

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