Carry
your
sorrows
in your compassion.
Carry
your
regrets
in your forgiveness.
Carry
your
opinions
in your wisdom.
Carry
your
dreams
in your heart.
Carry
your
love
in your hands.
And
carry
your
steps
to the dance floor.
In every second
in every moment
The Maker lives in you.
Why not entertain
the music
with your graceful feet
on the belly of the heavens?
The moon won’t mind a few more footprints.
~a poem by Shelly Monte
Grace in a Toilet Bowl
Yes, you read that correctly.
I found grace in the most
inconspicuous places
like toilet bowls
and dirt-packed laundry.
Was there ever enough time
or clothespins?
Hardly….
bookkeeping with numbers
that multiplied
and vegetables
and weeds
and meals
as daylight
diminished.
Then one
evening, unaware
you staged
a Divine Ambush.
So ample life now,
and time.
Surely you heard my praises.
But tell me,
was I the first to thank
the toilet bowl
and pay homage
to the weeds
and laundry
as I clung
to your fringe?
I see you looking
for the The Lamp.
The One
that warms the honey
for your invisible bread.
Long ago
will find the way my children.
Aren’t new stars born
to our eyes
really lightyears from the past?
Look for those cheerful eyes
that milk laughter, dance, sing,
and churn butter into life.
Be still now and wait.
For long ago is just around the bend.
My rivers
run
deep
My mountains
rise high
Low and behold
I’m ever at your side
Fret no more
my gentle one
grasp my hand
it’s near
Together
we will walk
crushing
every fear
Into a field
of blooms
upon a
mossy trail
My love
for you
my precious
one
Will
never
ever
fail
allow love
to be.
who?
you.
allow love
to be
who
you become.
allow
love
in
every
instance
for the tenderness in your heart yearns to be
heard
seen
known
recognized
remembered
rejoiced
reconciled
redeemed
renewed
replenished
reinvented
and
radiantly
present.
Bring life
into life.
“How?”
you say.
Listen
let me tell you.
There’s only
only one way.
Choose each word
rinse it twice
in good.
Smile at the troubles
you never thought
you could.
Put on an armor
of love
from his arsenal and gear.
For never will
you fail
his hand is
always
near.
Walk on
Child.
Walk on
this way.
For each step
you choose
put life
in your day.
His glory will
please.
His love
will
praise.
The ground
YOU
walk on
“HOLY, HOLY.”, says the bees.
And all in the forest
concure with the trees.
What’s all your fussin’
what’s all your blame?
Take a walk in nature
do you hear it shame?
Of course not!
We, while beggars
see not the trees
or know the sound of eternity
humming like bees.
It takes a broken moment
forged from deep faith
to see the truth in light
from where all
and all
is right.
Metal your efforts
return to child’s play
for Christ has plans
and Christ has ways.
Now go to the Mountain
walk through the blooms and blaze.
Take the hand of Christ
follow all Christ’s ways.
Join the journey
stop to smell the blooms.
Heaven in your heart and mind
has many
many
rooms.
The coffee house and bookstore bustle with gentle motion. The aromas are coffee and port. This is not your common coffee house…
I walk to the counter expecting my order to be a medium latte. Instead, I’m greeted with offerings that I cannot pronounce, (yet). There are cocktail coffees made with Monk made Port. There are teas seasoned with the spirits of the vine, oh my!
Sweets made from other Monks or Nuns, held under glass domes seek my attention.
I ask the young woman barista what her favorite is. She says something that sounds like, “Anchorite”. I ask her to make this for me, “Please.”
The dark liquid arrives at the self serve counter. It’s dashed with a sprig of Rosemary. The first sip has me wondering how long I’ll need before I should drive!
Jesus has asked my life to shift or expand in a direction I have not anticipated. All that I knew to be my daily norm, is now another reality. I’m observant and attentive to HIS plan and the part I have upon me to accomplish HIS will.
So raise the glass, and sip the blessings. Life takes new roads and unexpected turns. But it is the life in Jesus that is Forever straight and True.
May your day be blessed knowing HIS work in you is ever present.
Thanks for reading.
Shelly
I should tell this
write you about
my friends
they head out
before me
pulling needles
from hay stacks left in both eyes; you know
all messy moments clear- the little pieces of hay, chaff really
hearts beat
lungs billow
the room empties
those scoundrels and trouble makers in their clamor
thank God they persisted
truth to tell 