Tag: The Sunday Community

The Ink From Your Heart

~ Elizabeth W. Marshall ~ 6 Comments

Release your words, let them loose, set then free, let them soothe a soul in need

Place your words on the wings of the dove and let them soar to a world which struggles to  breathe

Give your words, room to fly, to land on the threshold of the ones who ache, afflicted, in pain

Let your words be free to go, fall soft and gentle onto a soul, washing gentle encouragement over hurting man, woman

Let your words, still wet with ink leave the well of your heart, touched first by the spirit of God

And let them truly soar. 

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The Spirit of God is arousing us within

Romans 8 – The Message

Praying for opportunities to speak words of encouragement and tenderness to one to the left and one to the right, all weekend long. May your weekend be peaceful, inspired by the gentle spirit of God, and open to touch another in need of transforming words from a heart that knows Him.

Joining Sandra Heska King for Still Saturday and Deidra for The Sunday Community

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Red, A Christmas Poem

~ Elizabeth W. Marshall ~ 6 Comments

berries in sunlight

Red bakes velvet
Berries burst crimson
Bows tied ruby
Birds feed scarlet, tipping by the window ledge
Lights flicker scarlet, winking at the wonder of it all
Christ’s blood shed, sacrifice,
life poured out

Red

But first the manger, birth and life

Waiting watchful vigilant we

For the coming of Christ the King
Red the beating hearts of we

who worship
Celebrating ,glorious triumphant birth,

a Baby, Savior
The King, draped in robe of Royalty.

And all the world awaits his birth

While dressed in fabric festive, crimson

And all the words written, captured, printed holy, 

All the words as gift for us, holy, holy ,holy  they are, there

in

Red.

Joining Deidra for her Sunday Community…what JOY!

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Someday Is One Day Is Today

~ Elizabeth W. Marshall ~ 4 Comments

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.

Today.

Joining Deidra and her beautiful Sunday community.

The Cabin in the Woods

~ Elizabeth W. Marshall ~ 13 Comments

While all the world is warring
And storms blow over,
Stop, still scarring lives,
I unwrap sweet gift of resting
Unworthy as I am
In a cabin, boxed small peace
Made in part by hands of man
The one that loves me
Still, like embers in this fire here
In the cabin in the woods
Warm like fingers of the flame
Dancing like the ballerinas in Swan Lake
So graceful draping
Over logs in gentle beauty
Warm and wild.
And still and quiet are loud and thick
Like dense gray fog if she could speak
Peace envelopes in the quiet
And comfort blankets me in love, such peace.
I tuck my heart up in this place and soak
My soul in silence.
And there is warring in my soul
Only at the time of  leaving.
But peace is carried off from here
While worlds away are hard at war
It’s tucked in memory in my pockets
For my treasured keeping.
He restores, rebuilds
Our love
We stare, we lie
In rest, repose.
Stilled, our souls by calm
And ready to return from this
Boxed gift
Sweet love in silence
Saved and savored
In the cabin in the woods.

Joining Deidra