(last Sunday at Common Table, we were invited to visit some great prayer stations, one of which asked us to do some contemplative prayer and meditation. this is where I found myself.)
this house is an abbey
a cell, a crucible
a refuge from,
and an exposure to,
the hardest parts of life
a place to toil and sweat
to engage my back and my grit
my gifts and my art
my love and my passion
to be strong and weak
dwelling in a place
of flickering light
to create a pocket of nurture
where three seeds grow
into the fulness of God’s dreams
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Perfect. A good home should always be about his.