life: acoustic & amplified

good news first

The good news is that we don’t all fall down at the same time…

We stagger our joys and sorrows,

Our baptisms of awakening and drowning .

We are scattered and sacred,

Evening watering of half a planter and pulling weeds here and there and yet,

Holy and honest in our compassion for others.

Sometimes consumed with what is so wrong, witnessing what is dangerous to the human soul.

The good news is that we don’t all fall down at the same time…

We stagger our joys and sorrows,

Holding family up when illness comes ,

rejoicing when babies learn to walk,

when toddlers have favorite bedtime books to read on mamas and daddy’s laps;

When summertime is a different pace,

So our memories of why we do what we do, grow.

We are scattered and sacred,

Lost in pockets of space and time…

And yet, we pray for the grace to slow down,

For the colors in sunsets to rob us of clocks that tick,

To redeem us and bless us as the radiance rises up within us.

May the God of love who adores us ,

The God of life who knows us,

Who continues to create beyond our understanding,

But within our capacity to hear, to heal and to help,

Move us…to be radical with resurrection.

Beauty,

Rev. Donna Knutson

Strange to realize

on our very worst day of life

someone else is having their very best.

Every death

is countered with birth.

Every grieving tear

with belly laughter.

On the night we see the stars fall

the sun is rising on the other side of the world.

The human spirit cannot be conquered

we rise again with each fall.

Tides come in

as tides go out.

With every broken heart

there is an answering new moment of love.

For every first kiss

a final slamming of the door –

figuratively or literally.

For every threshold we cross

we must cross again in a new moment.

We each have moments of glory

moments of defeat.

Worry is the paper tiger

which strips our moments of joy.

Illusions of control hide behind our eyes

always revealed to be a waste of our precious resources.

There is a time for every season.

In all we are to bring the sacrifice of praise.

It is the amazing hat-trick to the healing of our wounds

that in every single circumstance

we stand in the truth of that moment

and we give thanks.

Amy Lloyd

1/18/14

wearing pain so close to the skin

brutally displayed on arms, legs and necks

topical grief, as yet unprocessed

waiting patiently to be subsumed within a shattered heart

carrying an unknown feeling

can be so hard to understand

tears drown our morning

watering flowered pillowcases each night

tides carrying us here and there

life blooms upside down

inside out

torn from headlines

of familial disasters

wait in hope, my friend

all is not lost

the windmills of the gods are grinding away

ever so slowly

yet the hourglass will never stop running

the fine sands of Father Time continue

the winds will change direction

you will smile again

and live to share your truest love another day

the promise is always

Yes and Amen

the sun is just beginning to shine through the clouds

we will run, laugh and jump in puddles

together

before this day is through

🌞

Amy Lloyd