a prophetic voice-

   Spent a few hours at one of my favorite places this morning, writing. For some reason, my creativity seems to find expression when I am away from home, away from the familiar places I usually inhabit. And, with pen in hand- yes, I actually put pen to paper, rather than using a computer for creative writing- I put my feelings down, surprising myself, as usual, with the results, as I bounced all over the place emotionally. And so, I' m daring to share them with you, always a risk for a writer, a poet...(deep sigh, gulp, share...) the wren singing at the top of its voice each morning tiny wren mighty voice daring to sing     its own sweet song welcoming the day daring to be freely,     fully itself no holding back no second guessing warbling an invitation to this often-reluctant human- be yourself! lift your voice! be daring! make the most of it, no matter what what baggage am I STILL carrying?...

If I were in charge of the weather, I would create a whole spate of days like today- temperatures in the upper seventies, low humidity, lots of sun and just enough breeze to elicit a gentle melody from the windchimes on my front porch. Which is where is I have been spending most of today with my trusty laptop, researching material for the next three sermons I will be preaching...eating a bit of lunch...listening to the birds whose songs are occasionally punctuated by the voices of kids passing by on the street. And now comes the refrain of the ice cream truck, making its way slowly down Council Street. Just a perfect day.    Good job, God...not that you need my consent or assent or approval, but I am just incredibly appreciative for a day like this...a day on which I can forget about hip pain and grief pain and anything sad, and be simply overwhelmed and engulfed by the beauty and wonder and perfection surrounding and enfolding me.  ...

Alive... the air around me alive with      the sounds of birds and      the rustling of leaves in the breeze and      the far-away whooshing of a passing jet and      the lack of human voices. I sit in the enlivened silence letting the sun's rays feed      my grateful skin enjoying the soothing gentleness      of the occasional breath of breeziness while my left shoulder is massaged by      a tender caress from the voices of      a pair of mourning doves. A different kind of Sabbath a different type of prayer and praise      from a heart overflowing with      gratitude for life                         and light        ...

Multitudes of thanks From an overflowing heart Spill over onto my path This holy day This day of grace This day of life Multitudes of blessings Flow- to those I love To those I will meet Making of every encounter Holy Ground Multitudes of wonder Fill my eyes and mind and heart As, wide-open, I enter Into this day This holy day This day of grace This day of life          In the name of the Creator           and the Redeemed           and the Living Spirit. Amen

Yesterday was a delight...beautiful snow showers...a visit to an old friend at Trinity Glen...coming home to a house decorated for the holidays...hot chocolate in front of the fire. Lovely... But this morning, tears came unbidden as I found myself longing for Thanksgivings long past and the people no long present. I felt suddenly bereft...of purpose, of hope, of joy. A shroud of loneliness covered me, blotting out the already-brightly-shining sun. I was alone... felt alone...and I found myself wondering just what these nearly seventy-two years of my life have been all about.   The tears passed, as they are wont to do, and as I stood in the blessedly hot shower, I began thinking about this day- meant to be a day of giving thanks, though it has taken the meaning of a day for family and feasting- not a bad thing, except for those who have neither family nor food. And I have both- in abundance, if truth be told. And friends...beautiful, wonderful, sharing, caring fri...

As another glorious autumn day draws to a close, as I sit before the fire in warm, cuddly pajamas, my dear friend, Mae, across the room, reading, I am overcome with gratitude... for a day yesterday spent walking and talking and sharing... for the wonderful Greensboro Historical Museum... for cheesecakes by Alex... for warm and comforting homemade vegetable soup...  for Thursday evening's dinner at Bistro B with Marie and all of its     joy and laughter... for today's quick trip to Wilmington to see my daughter, Hope,     her significant other, Matty, and granddaughter, Lindsay, and     lunch with our Rwandan friend, Innocent... for the gift and blessing of friendship... for my comfortable little car... for the beautiful, bountiful leaves which gently cover my yard... for a daughter and two sons, loving and caring, each one... for nine incredible grandchildren... for health and happiness, resilience and restor...

The realtors just left- and it seems that I am staying put, right where I am, i n my lovely little quirky old house on Council Street. There- I said it. I AM NOT SELLING MY HOUSE, because financially it would simply not be feasible. The reality is that I would actually lose money, money I can ill afford to let slip t hrough my fingers. And that would totally defeat the proposed purpose of my tentative plan. You know, life has a way of continually surprising me. I thought I had made the "right" decision when I opted to downsize, to sell my house, and look for an apartment. But the two kind real estate agents who toured my home with me today, loving what they were seeing, oh-ing and ah-ing over the many little features which make this place unique, were in so many ways the answer to prayer. I have been so torn about which way to actually go, which path to really take, how to  live most responsibly. Making the right choice has occupied my mind and heart for ...

Where has November gone? It seems like just yesterday the month was beginning and now Thanksgiving approaches. Most of the trees in my yard are nearly bare, though the lovely Japanese maple is clinging to her leaves which turned color only recently, setting the side yard aflame with an incredible red fire. As I sit here contemplating the week ahead, I am filled with gratitude, perhaps more than ever before...and I am giving thanks for so very many things. First, I am incredibly thankful that my sister, Kathy, will be celebrating her birthday this week, after a long and challenging summer of surgery and chemotherapy. Her voice over the phone sounds so hope-filled and positive and I surround her with love and light and prayers each day, that there may be many, many more birthdays ahead for her. Then, of course, I am thankful for my three children and nine grandchildren, such unique individuals and yet, collectively, a delightful conglomeration of faces and personaliti...