IN A NUTSHELL, I NEED PRAYERS

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My dear friends! I have some news and an urgent prayer request. I am in New York unexpectedly early to get surgery on my ankle, which appears to be in much worse condition than originally assumed. While the plan is to eventually move back to Texas, I will not be returning until after my recovery, which could take upwards of four months; nor will I continue my service with Saint Paul’s Outreach next Fall.

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BRIDE & MOTHER: A WOMEN’S RETREAT

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When the concrete jungle gradually turns to rolling hills of green, and sunlight glistens over distant peaks of hazy blue, as one drives along windy roads with no shortcuts back to the busy noise of routine, something changes in the heart. The restless heart, previously told by the world to sit in a corner and stop crying, to slap on bandaid after bandaid of distraction, is free. It’s free to gently brush its fingertips upon the ungraspable reality that is its own existence. There, one voice is able to penetrate through the barrier of shouts all claiming to have life’s answers and say, “I love you, my daughter.”

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