Wet Paper

I found this excerpt from a prayer journal entry on November 11th, 2012.

I feel like a piece of paper,
floating on the surface of a lake,
soaked and shivering in the wind,
tossed about with the waves,
wandering aimlessly with the currents,
on the verge of being ripped at any moment.

Fragile and confused
about whether or not it ought to be content with its lot
or whether it should desire to get swept up by a breeze,
dried off and safely landed on dry land
where the words imprinted on its surface
may be read and benefitted from.

Rake up your memories

Rake up your memories
Fading with time,
Falling like leaves,
Thoughts past their prime.




Torn by pain.

Some, bright yellow,
Bring smiles like the sun.

Others, boring brown, are
Mundane piles of daily debris.

Though boring outweigh bright,
And pleasure be obscured by plight,
Don’t throw them all away
Without a second glance,
A second chance to remember:

The grace in every leaf
Becomes the fertile soil
For gratefulness and hope
Which transforms all our toil.

I will remember the deeds of the Lord;
yes, I will remember your wonders of old.
I will ponder all your work,
and meditate on your mighty deeds.
(Psalm 77:11-12)