God bless Brenda Ueland; may her soul rest in peace. Her words from decades ago resonate loudly to me, reminding me why I do what I do, putting in print the cries of my soul. Sit a while, Sara. Dream. Write. Gaze into the distance and feel. That’s what my soul says, and I think Brenda would nod approvingly, maybe even give a sly little wink.
Every blessed moment when plans change or tragedy strikes or life seems all off-kilter, we still have a choice. Thank you for providing us with this choice. Sometimes I do just want to be a hedonistic sloth or wallow in self-pity. Thankfully, I don’t prefer this for long. What it does provide me with is a broader perspective and a greater appreciation for when those other holy, enlightened moments of peace and contentment come. These aren’t the same as the moment of ecstatic joy (though those are lovely, too). Moments of peace are like when you realize you’re floating on the water and relax into the flow. Life is good. All is well, and I feel it in the core of my being.
I’m convinced this peace does dwell within and through us all. Our awareness of it is what changes, blinding us with ignorance of its presence. Help us to know and to feel. Help us to show this peace to others . . . and to see it in them, too. Awaken us to the Peace that surpasses all understanding.
Thank you for the rain. Thanks for protecting my children and animals (yes, even the chickens).
Continually guide us all onto the path that lives into the greatest compassion for everyone, however great or small that may be. Hear us, O God, in our time of need.
Thanks and glory to You, now and forever. Amen.