Come to the woods for here is rest. There is no repose like that of the green deep woods.
The mom was standing next to me, and while I was taking the photo, she said: “My husband is loving this right now. He tried to get me to wear the same thing, but I said ‘hell no.’”
He whispers His promises of restoration into my soul. “I will resurrect your broken heart.” His whispers are like rushing waters in this barren place.
I used to pray that God would feed the hungry, or do this or that, but now I pray that he will guide me to do whatever I’m supposed to do, what I can do. I used to pray for answers, but now I’m praying for strength. I used to believe that prayer changes things, but now I know that prayer changes us and we change things.
Thinking fondly of people headed to all sorts of churches today. Different folks will baptize, sprinkle, take the sacraments, kneel, cry, pray out loud, pray silently, sing ancient songs, sing Hillsong songs, dress up, dress down, practice liturgy, practice patience, practice human care, practice worship. If you’re sitting at home on the fence, come to us. We are all a mess. We are all trying to love God. We want to love you. You belong here.
His owner told me that according to a Native American myth, dogs with different colored eyes can see both heaven and earth.
For behold, the winter is past; the rain is over and gone. The flowers appear on the earth, the time of singing has come…