
If I spent enough time with the tiniest creature –
even a caterpillar –
I would never have to prepare a sermon.
So full of God is every creature. ~ Meister Eckart
Where do you find the fullness of God?

… watching for the brushstrokes of God

If I spent enough time with the tiniest creature –
even a caterpillar –
I would never have to prepare a sermon.
So full of God is every creature. ~ Meister Eckart
Where do you find the fullness of God?

“Far from being a progressive process, grief moves by turns and spirals, a twisting path because it is not always clear or orderly. Grief is the least linear thing I know.” Jan Richardson, Sparrow
What do you carry within you?

You have been pulled into the fierce winds
Carrying you over the barren hills
Leaving you bruised
On the shores of this rocky coast.
…
Come falling
On your knees
On this bed of sand
Where the stones have washed away
And the softened earth awaits,
Take all the time you need
To be undone
And breathe ~ Morgan Harper Nichols
What softened space gives you breath?

“Something as earthbound as fabric and clay and paint can speak our most wordless longings, express our delight and grief. Beauty can connect our hearts to the divine heart.” ~ Grünewald Guild founder Richard Caemmerer
How do you express what words cannot?

“I think it makes a huge difference, when you wake in the morning and come out of your house, … whether you are emerging out into a landscape that is just as much, if not more, alive as you, but in a totally different form, and if you go towards it with an open heart and a real, watchful reverence, that you will be absolutely amazed at what it will reveal to you.” John O’Donohue
What is the landscape of this season revealing to you?

“Hope” is the thing with feathers –
That perches in the soul –
And sings the tune without the words –
And never stops – at all –
And sweetest – in the Gale – is heard –
And sore must be the storm –
That could abash the little Bird
That kept so many warm –
I’ve heard it in the chillest land –
And on the strangest Sea –
Yet – never – in Extremity,
It asked a crumb – of me. Emily Dickinson
What form or shape does hope take for you?