This is your soul talking;
Do you not hear
the distant longing
that is telling you your truth?
All that you are
All that you are
created to BE
Is buried in the
treasure of your heartsong.
Open this gift
and bring it to Light,
to shine your brilliance
well upon the way.
No other creature
can take the place of you;
to be the presence
of love in who you are.
In any moment
you can choose
to set her free ~
to soar in majesty
and holy awe.
~ Anna Lin
My photo ~
The richness of the rain made me feel safe and protected;
I have always considered the rain to be healing—
a blanket—the comfort of a friend.
Without at least some rain in any given day,
or at least a cloud or two on the horizon,
I feel overwhelmed by the information of sunlight
and yearn for the vital, muffling gift of falling water.
~Douglas Coupland
Rain, what can I say of you
that hasn’t already been voiced by others?
But how could I ever remain silent in your presence
since you touch a chord somewhere deep within me?
For in your “magnificent indifference of nature”
you’re the gift that embues everything with life and vitality.
You, a healing elixir, comfort like a friend
as you travel continuously around the globe
falling
through space between heaven and earth.
You are mercy and grace in liquidity
set in motion in the beginning by Yahweh
who created you as well as all else here below.
Holy, holy, holy are you who refresh and cleanse by
removing dust and ashes
from earthly strivings.
Would that you, too, could wash away
humanity’s
hatred and the wanton destruction
of that which you come to bless and save.
~Natalie Scarberry
He(God) provides rain for the earth; he sends water on the countryside. ~Job 5:10 ✝
**Image via Pinterest
Step outside the garden door,
with bare feet on cold concrete,
and after the realisation that it’s not so bad,
you can bear it,
move on to the dew wet morning grass,
to the uncut patch,
where the secret life within grounds you
to the heart of your heart,
to the world heart,
to the one sacred whole where you know yourself in everything,
where everything has it’s peace,
and even inanimate objects
find their rest in the sacred.
Of all the senses,
sight must be
the most delightful.
~Helen Keller, deaf and blind
American author and lecturer
May your inner eye
See through the surfaces
and glean the real presence
Of everything that meets you.
May your soul beautify
The desire of your eyes
That you might glimpse
The infinity that hides
In the simple sights
That seem worn
To your usual eyes.
~Excerpts from a blessings for
the senses by John O’Donohue
The eye is the lamp of the body. If your eyes are healthy, your whole body will be full of light. ~Matthew 6:22 ✝
**Image via Pinterest
Listen. Listen to the quiet word walking your way on the evening air,
slipping in around the edges of your reason, speaking in whispers like the wind
lifting the curtains to come into your room. Listen carefully, listen intentionally,
be still and listen, for the voice of the Spirit speaks in stillness not in shouts,
calls to you in soft sounds not the clamor of the crowd. God knows your name.
God seeks you out, answering your prayers, offering you wisdom,
showing you where to turn. Listen to learn, to understand, for the holy is most eloquent
in silence. Someone is speaking to you, speaking in the quiet hours of your soul. Listen
~ Bishop Charleston
Photo at: https://www.pinterest.com/pin/543668986242206364/
It is a golden maxim to
cultivate the garden for the nose,
and the eyes
will take care of themselves.
~Robert Louis Stevenson
May the fragrance
Of a breathing meadow
Refresh your heart
And remind you you are
A child of the earth.
~John O’Donohue
The meadows are covered with flocks and the valleys are mantled with grain; they shout for joy and sing. ~Psalm 65:13 ✝
**Image via Pinterest
Did I offer peace today?
Did I bring a smile to someone’s face?
Did I say words of healing?
Did I let go of anger and resentment?
Did I forgive? Did I love?
These are the real questions.
I must trust that the little bit
of love that I sow now
bears many fruits, here in this world
and in the life to come.
~Henri Nouwen
Give birth and life to your faith and dreams.
Let die all doubt and fear.
Plant seeds of hope.
Uproot all intolerance.
Kill off pridefulness.
Speak words of healing.
Tear down walls of indifference.
Build up those who are downtrodden.
Weep with compassion for those less fortunate.
Laugh long and often.
Mourn in your own way but not without hope.
Dance with gusto and sometimes in the rain.
Scatter stones that wall in and isolate mercy.
Gather stones in order to build bridges instead.
Embrace all living creatures.
Refrain from embracing ignorance and extravagance.
Search for your true self.
Give up on what the world tells you should be.
Keep your focus on the still, small voice inside.
Throw away words spoken in anger, resentment, and envy.
Tear away from those bent on destruction.
Mend broken relationships with forgiveness.
Be silent and listen to your heart’s sacred and sound goodness.
Speak words of comfort and concern and love.
Love the Lord with all your heart and all your mind and all your soul.
Hate injustice and prejudice.
War not with others nor yourself.
Pray for wisdom and peace.
1 There is a time for everything,
and a season for every activity under the heavens:
2 a time to be born and a time to die,
a time to plant and a time to uproot,
3 a time to kill and a time to heal,
a time to tear down and a time to build,
4 a time to weep and a time to laugh,
a time to mourn and a time to dance,
5 a time to scatter stones and a time to gather them,
a time to embrace and a time to refrain from embracing,
6 a time to search and a time to give up,
a time to keep and a time to throw away,
7 a time to tear and a time to mend,
a time to be silent and a time to speak,
8 a time to love and a time to hate,
a time for war and a time for peace.
~Ecclesiastes 3:1-8 ✝
**Image via Pinterest
My poetry was born
between the hill and the river.
It took its voice
from the rain,
and like the timber,
it steeped itself in the forests.
~Pablo Neruda, Chilean poet and
winner of the Nobel Prize in literature
I expect there are many writers, like Neruda, as well as artists and musicians who have found a voice in the rain as it evokes strong emotions in the human heart. In some unfathomable way I even believe rain is wedded to the human soul. So it is that I am drawn into its web and mystery whenever it blesses this arid and often drought-ridden land where I live. I’m not only intoxicated by the sounds and sights of it but also the whole other level of interest it creates in the garden and other earthly places.
Like billowing clouds,
Like the incessant gurgle of the brook
The longing of the spirit can never be stilled.
~ St. Hildegard von Bingen
The Lord will open the heavens, the storehouse of his bounty, to send rain on your land in season and to bless all the work of your hands… ~Deuteronomy 28:12 ✝
**Upper collage created by Natalie from her photo archives; lower collage created from images via Pinterest
Today’s post is by the late Ann Kulp
Music has called us to prayer through the ages: the shofar, psalm, pipes, harp, trumpet, the peal of bells, the carillon, and symphony. Some of us have been stilled and called through Tibetan bowls, whose sound lingers and leads us into the silence of waiting. There is the music of the gurgling brook, wind in the rustling trees, the chirping of cicadas and other natural sounds. There is the music of Native American flute, a jazz band, a Gregorian chant. It matters not what kind. Each is an echo of some sound heard eons ago, and perhaps remembered. At different times in our lives we may hear sounds that become moments of such recollection, drawing us more deeply into the attitude called prayer.
As I ponder the meaning of music for me, I have a sense of being touched deeply, as though…
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Sacred Touches 