For the redemption of my days
For the times when my fumbling attempts at kindness
Hold a tiny hint of true grace
And the words that stumble from my lips
It is God’s warmth,
But my lips.
I am grateful for the gift of connection
That comes from such an offering:
Connection with my friend
And the connection of us both
With the love-beat of the universe.
This small offering
Is but one thread in the great tapestry.
But it is one thread
And the full tapestry is made of threads
[photo by marc falardeau per cc 2.0]
The wind chimes
Hang outside my window
And when the breeze is low
I can barely hear them.
My ears are deaf
But my heart is held
By their quiet, soft, round tone.
They melt into that hollow.
Before the world begins its clamor
And the responsibilities click in place
I am held by unspoken beauty.
Even at noon
When the wind is still
And the chimes hang limp
The beauty of hope remains.
And in the evening
When the cool and breeze return
My heart is reminded.
I find I am held, still.
May you rest your head, this evening, upon a pillow of rich and beautiful dreams – where your imagination runs barefoot across a meadow of delight.
May your heart be set free from the concerns of the day.
May your soul find its home in the hollow of God’s hand.
May you receive and return that primal love
That calls the universe to life and sustains its every breath.
[image cropped from photo by angrylambie1 per cc 2.0]
As you snuggle into sleep at night,
May you be wrapped in a deep sense of peace,
Grateful for the day’s challenges and delights.
May your dreams be touched by the heart of God,
Filling you with hope and courage and purpose.
May you wake to the assurance
That you are fully, deeply loved.
May you live each day in the knowledge
That nothing can separate you from that love,
No matter where you go, or what you do.
May your smile continue to light up a room.
May your eyes crinkle with delight and wonder
At all the beauty of the world around you.
May you add your creativity to the larger dance of life,
And receive with joy the gifts that come your way.
May your hands be quick to help.
May your words be full of kindness.
May your friendships be true.
May you embrace your life with grace and gusto,
Giving and receiving joy along the way.
Her greatest wish
Was that her touch
Would leave the fingerprints
She got her wish.
Ruth Williamson – Jan 21, 1923 – August 8, 2002
Fifteen years later, her touch remains.
My greatest wish is that my words will echo the whisper of the Holy One.
What is your greatest wish?
May the soft breeze of God’s whisper
Lift your heart as you arise.
May God’s dear smile
Play across the faces of your friends,
As you greet each other along the way.
May you find yourself joyfully engaged
In those tasks most suited to your gifts.
May you deeply know, even in the midst
Of troubles and questions and seeming failure,
That you, yourself, will never be abandoned.
May you see that any gift,
Given in love into the hand of God,
Softens the edges of reality,
And widens the flow of grace.
Each act of love
Is a step
In the redemption of the world.
[photo by Styleღwithღattitude per cc 2.0]
Does it seem strange to you that an amoeba would try to talk to a ballerina?
Or, even more, that a ballerina would care to talk to an amoeba?
What language would they use?
What reality would frame the conversation?
What concerns, what urgencies, would energize the exchange?
So, when prayer confuses me … I probably should not find that confusion confusing.
The work of prayer is not so much what is being prayed about –
But about making the connection.
It is a wonder that a connection can be made;
A kindness that such connection is invited.
There is a transformation, bit by bit, in what I see;
In who I am;
In who we are, together.
Conversation becomes conversion … bit by bit by bit.
[Image modified from photo by Mirjana Veljovic per cc 2.0]