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Words of Light: Grace & Truth for Your Journey Home
White, As winter’s snow, Soft, As rose petals, Smooth , As silk, Slim and long. These are pretty hands. Brown, From the hot sun, Rough, From days of toil, Scarred, By nails, Large and calloused. These are beautiful hands, The hands of Jesus.
When I was small, My mommy would make our daily bread, Her loaves were round-topped Golden, delicious softness. But still, I liked it better to make my own, She gave a lump of dough, Showed how to sprinkle flour, Formed her large loaf. I… Continue Reading “Not Kneaded”
There is a stillness That reaches to The very core of the soul, Like an anchor In the storm, Like a rock In shifting desert sand, Like a current Steering the river. It reaches deep, deep Beyond itself To peace Himself– The Christ–… Continue Reading “A Stillness”
I remember as a little girl, Wandering to the vacant lot in town, Stopping to pick the prettiest wildflowers, Then running them home to my mom, I don’t remember what she said, But she kept them ’til they died, So, I know she must… Continue Reading “Flowers for Mom”
What is faith,
But a deliberate belief
In what we cannot prove to others,
But we know for truth
In the heart.
travelight94 
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