Grace for the busy, bumped and broken…..

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It’s been a bumpy,  broken-toe ride these weeks
and I’ve wiped out in the dark waves as much as I’ve ridden tall
during this busy, busy, busy season for our little mom and pop business.
We let it outgrow us this year and then lost some really stellar help
so this mom is having to dig down to the bellows of her being
to stay the course and keep our word to all the gardens we promised to tend
while the heat kept pounding and the rain refused to fall.
I’ve poured my heart onto paper filled with lists and long days
but haven’t patched them together to make anything to share over here with you.

So I’m just gonna show up and spill what grace I have from the broken bits that I am,
because it’s grace that’s holding me,
and I love the way it’s given ~ always ~ just as each fresh now arrives
That tomorrow looks a dread is only because it’s grace has not yet come.

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But it will come.  Sure as sunrise,   it will come.

Serving up some snippets for sipping during testy times:
(hope something fits)

“Shame is a bully,  but grace is a shield.  You are safe here.”  – Ann Voscamp

“You look at me and cry
everything hurts

I hold you and whisper
but everything can heal.”
– Rupi Kaur

“Tears are liquid prayers.”  – Robin McMillian

“Sometimes grace works like water wings when you feel you are sinking.”
– Anne Lamott

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“This grace is indiscriminate compassion.
It works without asking anything of us.
Grace is sufficient even though we huff and puff with all our might
to try and find something or someone it cannot cover.
Grace is enough.”
– Brennan Manning

“You can have the other words – chance,  luck,  coincidence,  serendipity.
I’ll take grace.”
–  Mary Oliver

“There’s nothing to prove and nothing to protect.
I am who I am and it’s enough.”
– Richard Rohr

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“When the rain is blowing in your face
and the whole world is on your case
I could offer you a warm embrace
to make you feel my love.”
– Bob Dylan

Almost in the short rows…..

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It’s May,   the reason I haven’t posted or come around to visit for awhile,
the marathon month for Rivergreen,  our small family business.
May,  the tiny window during which I dig a gazillion holes
and muster up soil from red clay and tuck in flowers and herbs and veggies and trees,
painting the earth with living art
in this small slice of time
before she turns up the oven quick and begins to bake the clay of my designs
into the gardens they’ll be for the long growing season.

It’s May,  the reason that I grin tired thanks for the wildflowers
winking from the roadways as I drive along dirty and sweat-soaked
and going in a hurry to the next somewheres that I’ve also gotta be.
It slows the too-fast of my heart to watch their effortless dance.
I love how simple.  How easy.

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I’m a little too pooped to write;
just want to share their smiles with you
because really they have their own way of saying
and it’s all too sweet and sacred to bungle with words.

I think of you while I’m down there on my knees,
you know,  humming your name to heaven
and smiling thanks for the gift that you are.

I’ll be back with more soon.
I’m almost in the short rows.

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“The art of deep seeing makes gratitude possible.”
-Ann Voscamp

 

waterbreak winter…

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I’ll remember this winter
when I’m old  I believe,
will remember the changing tide and slow receding
of the rattle and roar of my own striving,
as  surrender threw open some windows
to waves I never saw coming
and in a feeling kind of way I heard it,
the deep down sound of my water breaking
and the building rumble of a tugging squeeze
giving birth to changing season in me

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It’s been a soft time in a hard place
and I’m riding the  contractions,
sometimes scary fierce and others playful wild
and resting when the swells are glassy,
trusting the Love that holds the  sea,
and yielding vulnerable as it’s shifting me.

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And I won’t shut myself to winter till she’s done,
won’t shoo and hurry her dormant way,
won’t despise it how she slows and stills
until her work is yes in me.

I’ll remember this one when I’m old,
and smile grateful tears for the pressure that’s making
some prints on my life
that I wouldn’t have wanted to miss.
Deeper in love with the oceans that hold me,
I’m coming alive to my heart.

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“The woman had laughed the hard times
into wine.”
-Ann Voskamp

Hey friend,  I wrestled a bit over this….whether to just post these images and write down some sweet stuff about winter and how it’s still pretty
and almost over and just hang on
or
whether to dive into the deep end of what I’ve been living
and splash around and try to put together words that make sense of it.
I dove.
Hope it doesn’t give you a headache:)