a prophetic voice-

M y house smells like Autumn...windows open to let in the many earthy smells of the trees, new mown grass, and freshly spread mulch on the neighbor's garden...all of this accompanied by the nurturing, nourishing, delectable odor of apples cooking on the stove for homemade applesauce. The birds seem overjoyed, too, their songs punctuating the people-sounds in the neighborhood with melodic delight, a reminder to me that all-too-soon some of them will be leaving my yard for warmer climes, leaving the bird feeders to the cardinals, blue jays, titmice, and woodpeckers. I love this time of year, with its cooler nights and its daily juxtaposition of rainy days following closely on the heels of brilliantly blue ones...with its call to dig out the long sleeves and sweaters, to put away the pastels of spring and summer in favor of the oranges and reds and deeper greens and browns which seem emblematic of the season. Of course, Autumn is also a seas...

  I am definitely a morning person. Here it is, only 9:45a.m. and I have put a beef stew into the crockpot, baked a chocolate cake and some apple dumplings, and done three loads of wash. Oh, and made myself a lovely breakfast of my favorite poached eggs AND taken time for reading, praying, and journaling. Now, I'm readying to complete my sermon for Sunday. Please, please don't think I'm bragging or looking for praise of any sort. And I'm sorry if all of this early-morning energy makes you feel tired. This is just how I function best: rising at 5 or 5:30a.m. and entering into the day, first in silence and then in the joy of doing something I love. Of course, not all my days are like this. Sometimes I have to grit my teeth and just DO IT...those tasks I really don't enjoy, like cleaning... talking with those people who set my teeth on edge... keeping my nose to the well-worn grindstone. (After all, they're not called "chores...

Two scenes from my travels today play across the screen of my mind... two scenes which were totally unrelated, and yet occurred only two blocks apart in my town...in my travels... The first- seeing Christmas paraphernalia on display at a local craft store and being completely discombobulated by its appearance on this, September 15th, technically still summertime, though autumn is making brief forays into our weather these days. The second- seeing two young men- brothers, I imagine- exiting the AT&T store, hand in hand...the elder- about 19 or 20, I speculate, patiently and carefully guiding the younger- perhaps fifteen or so- and clearly in the thrall of some kind of mental or emotional problem... arms gesticulating wildly, gait unsteady, casting words out toward the not-there people who apparently populate his world. Gently, with obvious loving concern, oblivious of  the looks or opinions of anyone else, the elder led the younger to thei...

  Sometimes when I awaken- especially  to the sound of voices on the clock radio on the nearby bedside table- I am confused as to time         and place...where am I, I wonder,         and what is this day? as dream fragments hold me entwined in tendrils of imagination, of fancy's flight, where voices, faces of those long gone are vividly present where the curtain dividing what was from what is is gossamer-thin where past and present fuse into the one-ness of now, drawing me into the Spirit's tether where I am held as gently as a babe in holy, wholly loving arms

nothing lasts forever forever is a lie, distorting   how we see today, tomorrow finitude contains the truth   of our humanity, shining light on this very moment   this fleeting never-to-be-lived-again             moment breathe in.  breathe out inspiration.  expiration life riding on the breath   the ruach   the spirit until one last breath in-   or out, and then forever   is no more or matters not a bit absorbed into infinity' s deep mystery with molecules among the stars our DNA enlivening those we   leave behind-              perhaps forever taking a              different shape?

Walking in the early-morning freshness, Breathing in the gift of air         cleansed by last evening's rains Seeing...      the single reddening branch on           the maple tree around the corner...      further along, the dogwood with every leaf tinged           with dusky red, while her more-than-nodding-acquaintance           neighbor remains resplendently green...      the purple morningglories glorifying the shrubs           over which they spread...      the tightly-closed seed pods studding the magnolia           where once creamy flower bowls bloomed... Hearing...      the absence of traffic, as the human populants           remain at home on this holiday morning...      the abundance of birdsong r...