Who am I? I am restless, pacing, wondering, reaching. I want to know who I am. Years of care, love at its best, have been lavished on me and yet, I am trying to slowly sort through these feelings that often lay heavy on me. It’s not that I don’t want to be loved, to be embraced, but sometimes I feel caught by it, overwhelmed … Continue reading identity
Prayers of comfort this night to all those who suffer. May you find a golden sunset on your horizon. Continue reading Evening Prayer [06.10.2016]
Generous Lord, the day has been full and I am weary, but you have met my every need. I thank you for all the graces You have given me this day. Continue reading Evening Prayer [06.04.2016]
Mighty God of mercy, we thank you for the beauty of your creation. Continue reading Evening Prayer [05.28.16]
The light has come. The sun slowly rising into a canopy of blue casting its golden rays on ancient cypress and native pine. A heron stands at attention waiting to salute the day. A blackbird shouts a hearty welcome stirring slumbering girls with its raucousness. And I wait and watch for the light to penetrate the darkness, to reach places I cannot see, yet I … Continue reading Watching
Evening again and we are here beside the ocean with her persistent voice marking time and moving us into timelessness. Continue reading Timelessness
An evening swim, the rush of water, shouts and smiles christened by rays of gold. Continue reading Evening Swim
My oldest suggested I run a series on feeding hungry boys. Great idea! So, here’s the first of more to come.
I’ll be honest I’m not a big fan of “parenting” books. I’m not even a fan of the word “parenting.” It seems pejorative to me, as if raising children is a “project” that we can master and complete. What mother or father’s task is ever done?
Kathleen Norris commented once in an interview that we create community wherever we are. The thought caused me to pause, because I realized that so much of my understanding of community had been based on my rich, rural upbringing in the Mississippi Delta. A place where farm-life, church and going to Parker’s Drug store and the Post Office (along with a variety of other places) were so intertwined that it was hard to distinguish one from the other. Continue reading “In Search of Community”
Florence Brooks 