Diane W. Bailey
Music begins to play, and my spirit hears worship. I close my eyes and hum softly. Baby Girl hears as well. She puts down her toy and crawls to where the music is coming out of the computer. Pulling up to stand, she listens. I am suddenly aware of her presence. She has a far…continue reading…
In the beginning she was my mother-in-law, a feisty women who did not take “no” for an answer. She and her husband raised seven boys. I watch her flow in and out of sleep. I did not just lose a husband in the divorce, I lost a family. When the two become one, the oneness…continue reading…
Yet, O Lord, you are our Father. We are the clay, you are the potter; we are all the work of your hand.
The Winter of our Soul.
Quietly she walks in and we don’t notice at first. She seems like just a breath of air and no one notices where it comes from. The flowers take notice of her and dress in their very best. They dance in the rain rejoicing at her arrival. As spring comes out of her place of hiding…continue reading…
And when He saw the multitudes, He went up on the mountain; and after he sat down, His disciples came to Him. Matthew 5:1 He walks up the hill and sits on the ground. He who owns it all, who has a throne, sits on a hill, on the ground. He doesn’t go to a temple…continue reading…