a heartfull of hymn….

 

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For rivers and fountains and leaves and fields
and bulbs and seeds and stories and songs
and all the ways that love pours in
when hope holds open the door,
I whisper thanks,

and for flight and flutter and drift and dance
and all the ways that family happens,  that art happens,
that rest and freedom and hope happen…..for all that inspires,
I sing it out loud,  thanks,

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for starshine and moonlight and candles burning slow,
for electricity and clean windows and reading glasses
and lamps softly glowing and my favorite sunbeam on the stairs,
I’m grateful all the more,

and for the light that leads me to the ones I need
and to the ones who need something of me,
for the feeling of an open road,  the fierce mystic restoration of  forgiveness
and for every shade and tone and color and hue,
for both and also and yet and still
and right on time,
I belt it out,   thank you,

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for the ways we become more peaceful,  more playful,  less prickly
as time and grace and trouble flow across our rough edges
and iron sharpens iron
and we change and disentangle and grow,
for the unexpected lift when all we could see was
a slow,  dark climb,
for all the ways that provision can come  and surprise
I’m twirling here…..thanks,

That this journey is messy and ours and thick with mystery
and none of it wasted,
for love…..that love is the flying,
I hurl it,  fling it,
sing it out,  dance and swing and whoop it loud
from the bottom of this heart of mine,  I give it now,
thanks.

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“Can you stand in the stillness,  in the stillness can you stand,
cause you’ll always dream of flying
but everybody lands,
in this world full of voices  screaming in your ear,
only in the quiet will you hear

You are loved,  you are golden
and the circle won’t be broken
when you sail into the shadow of the storm.
We are sons,  we are daughters
in this world of troubled waters,
just hold on,   just hold on
you are loved,  you are golden.”
-Amy Grant

I’ll be sending a bounty of love to the deeply beautiful  rachel awes
whose name I drew this morning.
Again this week and all month,  if you stop and say hello,  I’ll plop your name
into the drawing at the end of the week
for another “love bomb”
(aren’t happy packages in the mail just the best!)

hugging the brave of me….

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Would you like to have a sit with me?
Maybe just take in slow the sky,
and let the silence fall around us  soft
while we  keep the quiet together.

No need for words.
No room for rush,
breathing in the fresh sweet hum of grace;
breathing out the stuff of heavy hearts
into the strong and steady hands
of light,
light that loves us like a song.

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Let’s just be still
and surrender to the sound.

Thanks for that.
I’ve been tired,
the kind of tired that comes from doing something scary,
still kinda shaking in my boots
and grinning that I stared it down,
the intimidation that comes
from un-pleasing people.

It’s a good kind of tired,
like when you break up hard ground
till it’s ready to plant.
My plow tip feels a little bent
so I’m resting deep inside
and hugging the brave of me.

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I think we’re both a little braver than we think.

“Another Monday comes and I just wanna breathe
’cause it’s a long, long  week for someone
wired to please.
I keep taking my aim,  pushing it higher.
Wanna shine bright,  even brighter now
Wish I would tell myself

Don’t try so hard……”

-Amy Grant and James Taylor