Grounded in Mystery
It was quite the processional, a moment that I could spend years trying to interpret. Instead, I decided to let...
It was quite the processional, a moment that I could spend years trying to interpret. Instead, I decided to let...
I am not a psychologist; so initially, the invitation was to identify the dysfunctions in different work settings. Discerning how...
If I had covered my ears to shut out pain’s noisy voice, I would have missed hearing Spirit’s whisper, her...
While in the throes of leadership, I found it necessary to make decisions, judgments if you will. I had to...
From time to time, my gardening stick reminds me to look through the broader lens of God’s love, respecting the...
As I abide with Infinite Love and my discernment stick, the Knowing eye sees beyond what is obvious. In those...
Knowing that the Sacred is not restricted by time or place, I enjoy time travel on occasion. My wisdom stick prompts...
I didn’t see any way around it. To love others as myself, I had to let the differing voices inside...
I would have loved a ritual stick while navigating my way through the dark night of the soul. I spent...
The spring winds are fierce this morning, so I am opting to hike metaphorically. With closed eyes, I grab the...
In my collection of images of the mandorla, the ladder that I follow down is my mandorla of acceptance. It...
Another one of my images of the mandorla includes a ladder. This time, the ladder horizontally bridges the gap between...