A PLACE OF REFLECTION
A TENDER SURRENDERING OF THE MOMENTS THAT ARREST MY HEARt
Where do we arrive if our participation in creation stops in the creating?
To where have we been led?
We were made for the doing, yes, quite right,
but we were also made for the receiving,
for the resting in what has been made.
There is beauty to be found in the aftermath,
in the reception, in the lingering and the chewing on
of bones once thought sucked dry.
If you've found yourself at this fledgling storehouse: welcome.
My hope is that it is found rife with the trappings of the hope and gentleness that are part and parcel of the marrow we so ravenously crave.
The contents of these shelves — these items at the ready for your procurement — are various in their nature, gathered as the result of the spontaneity of my heart and the promptings of the Lord within it.
Recaps and rundowns of weddings, of course, will be found, but stored alongside responses to films, reflections on excerpts of novels and poems and books, and the ramblings the Lord gently beckons from THE SECURITY OF my hearT.
