Sunday's offering 11.11.12

Sundays are difficult writing days. This is usually because there are dinner preparations, surprise visits, worship services and if I am careful, there is also time for blessed quietness. What I find in my quiet time is often so beautiful that I am afraid to put it on display because it may be damaged or mishandled. Or like most art, it may be misunderstood. The quiet time is a space to deal with the blessings and the demons that have danced in my head all week. The quiet place is a place of triage where I re-member my dismembered self and look for my severed limbs and put myself back together again. This blessed quietness is the place where "I come to the garden alone while the dew is still on the roses." In this space, I can work on forgiving and accepting forgiveness. In this space, I can work on loving and being loved unconditionally - which is really overwhelming when I pause to look at what it means to love ME unconditionally. In this space, I make room for the still small voice that calls me to my life's work. In this space, I am by myself but never alone. In this space, I am...