I am so tired of waiting,
Aren’t you,
For the world to become good
And beautiful and kind?
-Langston Hughes
Dr. Chuck DeGroat’s blog on Ferguson is so important! Please read it!!! Jesus always challenges us to break the chains that bind. We are never allowed to stay comfortable, but to go!
http://chuckdegroat.net/2014/11/25/ferguson-a-gospel-issue/
❤️ photo by Fisherman Dan @ Branford, CT
Photos by Fisherman Dan of Branford, CT
Sometimes we forget people, even people we appreciate, after they’re no longer present. Recently I have been gifted with a re-visit of the music of John Denver. As I have re-connected with his gifts, his spirit, his voice, it has taken me to new places of beauty and old places of re-birthing. 💞 Am so grateful for the talents each of us bring to the world. Our gifts, when shared, are eternal. Don’t withhold who you have been created to be. Share your truth now! Today! Every day! Beauty brings hope! Sharing brings eternal joy and changes the world! There are no accidental gifts! Embrace yourself!
You say you have no spirit,
but truthfully ask yourself this—
Would you look into my eyes
and see something beyond color?
You look at my hands,
but do you see beyond their shape to what they create?
When you notice my feet,
would you see beyond perception to
see how I travel through my journey,
or the way I am following after you?
Don’t imitate an eye and only see the object;
Don’t be fooled by the word reality.
When I look into your eyes, I see your spirit.
When I notice your feet,
I see the journey you’re taking,
the compass you follow.
Would you put down your logical way of thinking for just
a moment to see the hidden spirit glowing in you,
the spirit I see living through the truthful, inspirational
things you do,
the spirit that keeps me walking after you?
Beyond Words by Katie Pratt
“If the risk is fully aligned with your purpose and mission, then it’s worth considering.”
“If someone is always to blame, if every time something goes wrong someone has to be punished, people quickly stop taking risks. Without risks, there can’t be breakthroughs.”
“True disruption means threatening your existing product line and your past investments. Breakthrough products disrupt current lines of businesses.”
– Peter Diamandis
Don’t watch the clock; do what it does. Keep going.
– Sam Levenson
Breakthroughs usually come to me
like a fist to the gut,
then comes the battle for denial,
the self-pleading not to allow it,
the desperate attempt
to keep things status quo.
I never want to rock the apple cart,
I never want to lose anything,
especially people I love,
and comfortable dwelling places.
But breakthroughs must break through.
Truth must win
to gain my peace again.
It is what it is…always
refuses to be avoided,
no matter how hard I try.
Once acknowledged
all is quiet in the kingdom,
and I can begin to make a new plan
forward,
ever forward.
ACL 10/04/13
The songs of small birds fade away
into the bushes after sundown,
the air dry, sweet with goldenrod.
Beside the path, suddenly, bright asters
flare in the dusk. The aged voices
of a few crickets thread the silence.
It is a quiet I love, though my life
too often drives me through it deaf.
Busy with costs and losses, I waste
the time I have to be here—a time
blessed beyond my deserts, as I know,
if only I would keep aware. The leaves
rest in the air, perfectly still.
I would like them to rest in my mind
as still, as simply spaced. As I approach,
the sorrel filly looks up from her grazing,
poised there, light on the slope
as a young apple tree. A week ago
I took her away to sell, and failed
to get my price, and brought her home
again. Now in the quiet I stand
and look at her a long time, glad
to have recovered what is lost
in the exchange of something for money.
“The Sorrel Filly” by Wendell Berry
I stood in the surf
waiting
for what I was to receive
I looked at,
then past,
glistening rocks,
colored shells,
green sea glass,
none of them were right.
My back was to the Sound,
Waves coming and going,
Sand shifting under my wet feet.
I scan,
wait for what I must recognize –
then I see it.
this?
a black glob of rocks stuck together
browns and grey and bits of reds
it’s ugly
it’s heavy
it’s rough
it’s jagged
it’s not what I thought I wanted,
it’s not what I thought was valuable.
what is it, that the water has just delivered,
and I feel lead to pick up
to cart home with me?
I want it to be romantic.
Maybe…
I search for romance…
a meteorite?
a mystery from another planet?
I walk the mile home,
wondering what lessons I will learn from this ‘gift’
I have just received from the ocean.
Almost home,
one more curve,
I spot my favorite kinda caterpillar,
the brown and black,
softest, loveliest velvet
crawler in the world.
I loved the feel of them as a little girl,
let them crawl all over me.
I pass it,
then double back,
as directed by intuition,
to visit this small friend.
I am bent down,
and my fuzzy friend moves along,
and recognition comes.
I carry,
in my hands…
asphalt,
ASPHALT???!!!
a piece of the road,
which came to me by way of the ocean.
I belly laugh
as I my lesson,
my gift,
becomes clearer.
I am,
right now,
every moment,
in the ocean of grace
no matter where I am
the path is in the ocean of love,
of God.
The road is everywhere!
It rises to meet me.
It comes one chunk at a time.
This is gift –
teaching me what I need,
bringing me diamonds with each step.
Living,
and breathing,
thanks
is the best gift.
We are always loved
The message is waiting in
every surf
every leaf
every tree
every song
every heart beat
every tiny created thing
every little moment breathes and burns.
Remove your shoes,
dance wild by the fire,
dive into the sky,
sing loud and long –
holy,
holy,
holy
and fly away
home.
I’ll meet you there!
xoxo
ACL 9/22/14
I string words like pearls,
Knotting silence between each one
like silk thread
in a jewelers skillful hands.
long strands
or chokers,
built with love.
strategic placing of diamonds
where needed.
sometime a sparkling, featured,
brilliantly jeweled
pendant
swings carelessly.
always taking special care with the hardware,
the finishing is the most important.
it must stand up to daily use.
easy for right or left hands alike.
then on to a final polish before bagging
when each piece is complete.
ACL 4/11/13
watercolor paintings by Mary Lou Peters
October. Its brilliant festival of dry
and moist decay. Its spicy, musky scent.
The church’s parking lot deserted
except for this one witness,
myself, just resting there.
Somewhere a radio plays Flamenco.
A spotlight of sunshine falls on the scattered debris.
Blood-red and gold, a perfect circle of leaves
begins to whirl,
slowly at first, keeping the pattern,
clicking against the blacktop
like heels and castanets,
then faster, faster, faster. . .
round as a ruffle, as the swirling
skirts of an invisible dancer.
Swept off into the tangled woods
by the muscular breeze.
The hoarse cheering of crows.
Inside the dark empty church,
long cool shadows, white-painted wood,
austere Protestant candles thriftily snuffed,
Perhaps a note on the altar,
Gone dancing. Back on Sunday
Outside by Dolores Stewart
life: acoustic & amplified 