Someday Is One Day Is Today

Let the peace of Christ keep you in tune with each other, in step with each other. None of this going off and doing your own thing. And cultivate thankfulness. Let the word of Christ – the Message – have the run of the house. — Colossians 3:17

One day the sun will hit the Magnolia leaves just right so that there are glistening greens of every shade and hue, even Moss and Hunter and Crayola’s New Spring Green, all in one tree.

And one day the house in its quiet will hum like a cat’s purr and the still will sound like a beautiful peace covered it in a blanket of goose down insulation. For a moment, cocooned in its own safe place, away from all the world.

And birds will chirp on repeat in their repetitive reset rhythmic cadence like a gentle alarm clock belonging to the Earth itself.

Children will grow while they are sleeping in the quiet space between childhood and adulthood and Thanksgiving and Christmas, dreaming of white lights and decorated homes with roaring crackling orange flamed dancers over the cut wood sturdy logs.

And she will know, that the one day she prayed for and hoped for is actually this day, this today, the day that the Lord has made. And that all the dreaming can now stop because someday sits curled up like contented milk filled baby with sweet bowed lip on the lap of her today.

And its all more than just okay.

Its simple. Its beautiful. And five will stand shoulder to shoulder in church and thank the One who gave her today.


Joining Deidra and her beautiful Sunday community.

Chosen Joy

Today is Day 21. And its all about JOY.To read the collective tread lightly over here.

Scatter Joy

Ralph Waldo Emerson

Am I the scatterer of, stumbler of the stumbled on?

Do I throw it out for seekers and needers starving for joyers?

Am I the depleter of or replenisher of?

Has He not provided like mana, the morsels of Joy enough to feast on, then re-stock the life shelves with?

When will I be the Joy in the life of the hungry for?

When will I take my portion and give it back to the malnourished in sadness, the Joy-starved?

So Today I choose Joy.

And look to pick up with a cheerful heart, renewing the heart with gratitude.

And knock the socks off others with the Joy that I have so graciously been given.

Strong Joy, meaty Joy, pulsing the veins,the life-blood, beating the heart, filling the soul.

Today I choose, for me and my house, JOY.

She sings like music to the ears of a weary one.

Transforms the death march into the dance of joyous celebration. Trumpets the return of living.

Joy, the tear-wiper, Joy, the soul- cleanser,

Joy the re-storer of dry-bones death.

Ode to Joy, a Alleluia Chorus of Praise for the hearts of the weary women.

Counting it all this in all,


Leaning into the Joy of the Lord, a walking cane, a brace, my rod and staff.


And I bleet like a sheep, crying out to my Shepherd,

Restore my Joy as I choose Joy,


Joining Deidra

And L.L. Barkat for In On and Around Mondays.

When Glimpses Are More Than Enough

The partialness and incompleteness seem to satisfy.

Its just enough for now. There is nothing lacking. No unfulfilled place of longing. In the moment.

The glimpses are more than enough.

Gazing a glimpse of blaze. The orange tells the heart there is a brilliant sunset over the river tonight. A glimpse of the beauty satisfies like the small bite of a foiled wrapped chocolate kiss. Its enough.

The wafer thin representation of His body in the open palms, a sign of saving grace. A sacred glimpse into the holy at the rail, with wine and murmurs of a transaction of love and sacrifice. Satisfy deep within the soul of man. It is monumental in its symbol, a glimpse into the Trinity and it is more than enough to wake up the heart of man to the weight of the moment.

This week I glimpse poverty, and grief. A glimpse is enough to awaken the heart of this woman to the weight of the world.

And I glimpse gratitude, hand-penned in black ink from her to me. And I glimpse friendship blended in a moment of prayer, mixed with death and poured out in sympathy. And it is enough to know the power of prayer and the sting of death. A glimpse into His presence in these moments of loss and suffering.

The portion is well-measured. By a God who loves and knows. That glimpses of love and joy satisfy for now. And in His wisdom, and in His love, in time, the glimpse will be more than partial.

There will be fullness. For now the glimpse is the full of weight of His glory. And mercy. And love.

The new moon sliver is all the soul needs to see to know. The full moon is on the way.

Glimpses of Grace quench the dry bones spirit. Glimpses of Hope restore broken Joy.

Peeks into the holy provide a fullness for the longing heart of the believer.

When glimpses are more than enough because we know the fullness of His Love is uncontainable and unmeasureable and unfathomable.

A glimpse is an exponential panoramic technicolor view of His Glory for the eyes of this Heart that believes.

Looking with the lense of gratitude, the glimpse becomes a gift of seeing into the more.

And the glimpse looks like fullness and radiance of His countenance to me.

As I stare in Faith and marvel at the wonder of it all. The mysteries still are. The beauty still is.

And His Love is never-failing.

Linking with Jennifer and Duane today. Great communities, its a privilege to participate with these wonderful writers and their tribes.

And also with Ann at A Holy Experience dot com.