my words fall far below

the season of spring and the word of god are both lands of memory. sitting outside with sunshine pouring on the pages of life.  those early days of me with god, spring air – the breeze, the water.  i walked down stone steps to find the right spot to be alone with you. i remember

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grace

gratitude list ~ one thousand gifts ~ 1313 – 1332 morning light fever seven am yoga swimming cat close mazzy unable to listen good movies cough drops people laughing at us paper airplanes reading the bible on knees for a friend people who love god the lesser of two evils glitter snow writing about writing

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out for a drive

i was driving on the peninsula. vineyards and cherry orchards were dormant in the mild winter. i wondered what the wine will taste like next year. rising onto the hills, the bay was blue and visible on both sides. i’m driving in detroit in the morning. the street had traffic and there were people waiting

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how to pray

“we have to learn how to be broken bread and poured out wine on the line of intercession more than on the line of personal contact.” ~ o. chambers and again, i’m convinced today. how could i not be? your goodness, your ability – your love is an ocean. you give answers to the questions

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internet martha

we drove up north on saturday.  blue skies lead us by bodies of water and slowly i remembered.  we turned down the lane towards our friend’s home and trees forced the crane of the neck to see their tops. i remembered. it occurred to me once again that i can slow down. maybe even rest.

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be brave, dear one

it’s strange about a scar. the flesh heals and holds the mark of what the body endured.  most of the time we forget about it.  my hands and my feet and my heart engage in the right now, in the everyday. but sometimes.  sometimes when the weather is melancholy or if i bump against a

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space for the uncontained god

i’m waiting for snow. the green exposed and the mud that’s been frozen and come thaw again is welcoming christmas eve this year. and i am like this. i am not as i should be. i’m the green grass of winter. i need to look just beyond, out the window behind your head and watch

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looking for the truest jesus

over and over rembrandt drew the glory among men hidden and then revealed.  he was the first western artist to use a jewish model for his paintings of jesus.  he moved into the jewish quarter of amsterdam and lived there for thirty years.  he sat on the streets and drew the life around him.  he

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