Good morning…
A quiet poem greeted me yesterday, a poem named Praying by Mary Oliver.
******
It doesn’t have to be
the blue iris, it could be weeds in a vacant lot, or a few
small stones; just
pay attention, then patch
a few words together and don’t try
to make them elaborate, this isn’t
a contest but the doorway
into thanks, and a silence in which
another voice may speak.
******
Suddenly, my eyes noticed the sun casting funky shadows from plant to chair. I snapped the photo above. Then, I slowly re-read the poem aloud. Might you do the same?
God’s still small voice spoke with shifting light. As I looked again at the plant and the chair, new things were illuminated.
Might this truly be the essence of prayer? Training our eyes to notice God quietly transforming everything.
Many people are surrounded by deep, dark shadows today. Anxious. Uncertain. Grieving. Open the eyes of their hearts, and let the light of Your truth flood in. Shine Your light on the hope You are calling them to embrace (Ephesians 1:18a, VOICE).
Hope is illuminated at the doorway of thanks.
…Sue…
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