14 March 2011
it’s strange to wake up in a world where tens of thousands are newly missing but my house looks its usual organized clutter and my children are all accounted for crunching cereal around the breakfast table, everything in its place.
shouldn’t we see evidence of anguish, even here?
but my coffee tastes like sorrow and our thoughts wear a blanket of stillness for so much loss and i cannot spare the world its suffering but we can hold out what comfort we know to a few families who (were it not for the shell shock) look every bit like ours.
God, show up, please. show up through us.
picking up with the gratitude list, #s 93-101
a sack of potatoes
purple optimism springing up as crocuses
renewed potential of a court date each weekday morning
friends who scaffold my heart
truth spoken from a sunday pulpit
m’s wiggly teeth
God in us
faces i love gathered late in our living room