i have a body and I am grateful, as I find it to be a very useful instrument for expressing love, strength, flexibility, grace but, I am not my body...
I will not hesitate. I will not hang back. I will go and offer my heart, for it is what I have to give...
She wept a river of tears holy water, sent to soften the sharp edges of sorrow a gentle hollowing out, carving new chambers in her heart a hallowed vessel for holding sacred, the tears of others...
This morning I awoke drowning in sadness. Sleepily, I probed my heart looking for a cause. Then, rising from the dream, I took possession of my feelings and gave them back to God - the only Source of my life. And that feeling of sadness - redeemed - ...
let your desires be His prayer in you. trust them. let them take you by the hand. let them walk you forward into the next moment, and the next, and the next, and the next...
Sometimes we go along, thinking "Ah, this is it - this is what true peace feels like…" Then, in a moment of grace, something shifts in our hearts, and in awestruck wonder, we whisper, "oh my, I just didn't know there could more...
the voice taunted, and threatened: "you are afraid, unhappy, dissatisfied, what if…." but I knew, this was not His language for motivating my heart, so I waited quietly to hear my Father's native tongue, "I love, I am satisfied, I trust, this is th...
a friend is someone who, when you make a mistake reminds you that you will, forever after, be a kinder person because of it...
my heart has no bones, so, I wonder -- what is it that keeps it from collapsing in on itself Love -- the same Love the that pulls me out of gentle slumber, calls me into the shape of its desires, and holds me true….
Our human inventions astound, our technological advancements are staggering, and we have amassed great wealth but, it is only through Love that hearts are transformed, respect is fostered, and lasting peace achieved...
our humanity is an expression of divinity in action
have a mind so quiet, that you can hear doves whispering as they rest their wings in the rafters your silent sanctuary
I stroke the bleached bones of ancient trees felled long-ago by industry or cold desperation and wonder of another almost summer when two fell asleep beneath her arms, curling into each other like wind-swept branches on the edge of tomorrow ...
