Simply Sunday

Prayerfully

If I choose to do
What I know to do
Love
Everyone
No matter what
Little room remains
For hateful words
Or ugly actions
If I choose to do
What I should not do
Hate
Anyone
For any reason
Little room remains
For joyful connections
Or beautiful expression
The state of my heart
Releases with my words
My words guide my hands-
Help me always choose love

❤️

“…no matter what I say, what I believe, and what I do, I’m bankrupt without love.”

I Corinthians 13:3 MSG

Evidence

I’ve held my tears close
Hesitantly accepting
The sun’s warmth
On my face
But the disappointment
And questions with no answers
Will no longer be ignored
Cascading down with today’s rain
I suppose this is where faith steps in
It is, after all, believing
In what I can’t see-
A simple definition, yes
Sometimes those are
The ones to hold close
And I must believe
Love continues to reside
Even in places where evidence
Is not clearly evident-
And if it is lost, to think it can
Once again, be found
It may begin with simple words
I hear you.
I love you.
I see you.
I am sorry.

But its survival requires
Much more than words-
Please don’t give me opinions
Or long-held beliefs
Both are easily skewed
By outward influences
Where truth and lies
Are purposefully blurred
Instead, close your eyes
Open your heart
Focus on the sound
Of your heartbeat
Helping it to grow
More in sync with mine
As we breathe
As we silently pray
Knowing I am afraid, too

Dampened Cheek

Rain continues to fall
While the wind rests
My racing thoughts
And rapid pulse
Gratefully embrace
A moment of calm-
The saturated ground
Swells, painfully aware
Of its limited capacity
Struggling as the rain
Completely unaware
Continues to fall
Like a continuous stream
Of tears rolling down
An already dampened cheek
Unsure of their destination-
Will the tears be brushed
Away by hands, dry and cracked
From denial and indifference
Or allowed to freely flow
Softening hearts
As the rain softened the ground

The Challenge

No need to hurry
No need to hesitate
Yet, simply being
Is sometimes
The hardest thing to do
I wonder why?
Why are we so often
Afraid to be still
Breathe in
Breathe out
Not thinking about
The next moment
The next day
The next year
Whether they arrive or not
My worry carries no sway
Today I choose
To be still
Breathe in
Breathe out
Accepting that it is okay
To not know
Where my next step may lead

Another beautiful photo of Central Arkansas taken by my sweet Mom. 💙

I stood in line to vote this morning. A right and responsibility I do not take lightly. And now, like everyone else, I wait. The challenge is to wait calmly, pushing worry away.

Simply Sunday

Too Many Blankets

One can never have
Too many blankets
Lightweight, flowy ones
Perfect for wrapping
Around exposed shoulders
On a surprisingly chilly Spring evening
Plush, heavy ones
Covering all except your face
On a snowy Winter morning
Then there are those blankets
Whose importance resides
Not with their physical qualities
But their purpose in a specific moment
Or particular place in time-
The first swaddle snuggly wrapped
Around your sleeping baby
Grandmother’s quilt
A childhood treasure
Proudly draping the back of your sofa
More than a blanket
More than a memory
A covering of love
Wrapped around your heart
Always ready to comfort,
To warm, to protect
Whether tears fall
In celebration or grief

Time change proved to be a bumpy night in Oklahoma. Heavy rain, strong winds, and tornado sirens filled the overnight. Our power is out. Looking out the window this morning, I see the sky is beginning to lighten, and the wind is calm. I’m grateful to be on the couch with a blanket. We are ok.

Lesson in the Sunrise


A dark cloud of apathy
Split the morning
Perfectly in half
Left to linger
The damage left behind
Will be impossible to mend-
Strange, love exists
On both sides
Of the darkness
I must believe it does-
Rays of hope
Able to burnish holes
Through the shadows
Of indifference
Affording hope even
In the murkiest of storms-
Light joining hands
Across the darkness

On a recent morning drive, I noticed an unusual sunrise. From my vantage point, a large dark cloud divided the sun’s fiery red glow in half. The clarity of the division was daunting. Yet despite the chasm, beauty existed in each half.

“Darkness cannot drive out darkness, only light can do that. Hate cannot drive out hate, only love can do that.”  Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr.

Simply Sunday on Monday

Each Other’s Keeper

Sometimes heard
In a voice
Not thru words
But in subtle timbres
Tiny waves of uncertainty
Rustling their way out
From under the rubble of worries
Cautiously searching for
A listening ear
An open heart
Two reaching hands willing
To help carry the burden
Lessen the weight
If only for a moment

Will my ears hear the waves in your voice?
My heart see the need in your eyes?
My hands reach out and lift you?

My heart says you would do the same for me

Song for You Far Away, Your Song, Secret of Life

A few of my favorites. 🎶🎹❤️

Seasoning


A sweet aroma calls
But no one is allowed
In the kitchen
Until it’s time-
Mind focused
Hands steady
Intentionally reaching
For each ingredient
Knowing the use
Of certain seasonings
Expresses feelings
Difficult to put into words-
Dinner’s ready! Come fix your plate!
Tired, satisfied, he sits
Watching, listening
Waiting to see if the flavor
Conveys the richness
Of the love with which
The meal was prepared-
Ah! Sweet silence

Do you have someone in your life who loves to cook? Not just for the sake of cooking, but as a sign of love for those receiving. I’m beginning to understand, as a recipient, the meaning behind the words-Everyone out! 😉❤️

Sawdust

I see your light
Seems impossible
You are no longer here-
I cannot hear your voice
Or hold your hand
Hands rough from years
Of hard work-carpentry
I see your light
As surely as the
Smell of sawdust
From freshly cut wood
Carries me back to
My childhood and you
Just getting home from work
I see your light
In everything you built
A tiny birdhouse
Your grandson’s toybox
Our family home
Churches near and far
I see your light
Reflected in all those
You loved so dearly-
How I wish
I could see your face

How I miss my sweet Dad! There are tears some days. But there are precious memories everyday. ❤️

I wrote this poem in a recent poetry circle. Thankful for such a beautiful, safe space that allows me to be me.