trying to write

Sometimes I just need to listen.

To the Spirit, first,
who is always whispering
Come, Rest
and today is saying
I am always the river, running through
your dry riverbed

To the lake, hushing itself in the breeze.
And the four year old, who takes my hand before she sleeps, holds it to her cheek

To people…

“sometimes God seems so far away i feel i have to yell myself hoarse to get him to hear me. and other times, he seems as close as a bird on my shoulder, singing beautiful songs to me, and softly touching my face with his feathers.”
-emily wierenga- inked…

our very bodies bear the mark of our interdependence.

permanently pressed into our skin is the sign that we belong to one another,
by

tara pohlkotte- intertwined: on why we have bellybuttons

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