Church is poetry. Poetry is life. A spent Sunday in my promise garden.
In every step forward, compose a mental reminder to forgive,
relinquish bitter spirits and love with wild abandonment.
Those who want to speak, let them speak,
trapping themselves in the devil’s snare.
Flee! Be jubilant in your new found freedom,
not residing in the enemy’s lair.
Life is not about being less of you
but being more of God.
Soul sparkles your atoms.
In the beauty of the earth be awed.
My azalea bush. Spring 2016 Louie spying on me behind the Columbine,
while I flit as a butterfly, around the garden.
Yes, unexpectedly, neighbor’s may catch me dancing in the sun or lying in the grass watching the clouds pass over.
Ephesians 5:8 For you were once darkness, but now you are light in the Lord. Live as children of light 9 for the fruit of the light consists in all goodness, righteousness and truth.
Unfortunately, this is not Indiana’s weather today, so I had to use Friday’s pictures and improvise. Gratefully, my heart is still as warm and happy as it was on Friday! Peace, J