Sunday, March 16, 2025. 39.3*
Large drops atop the bin of salted sand tell the story of the time between good night and good morning. No rain falls; too dark to see if there are puddles. The air feels cold, I leave the three to wander outside alone; listen to the coffee drip into my cup, watch the door for their return.
I’ve never seen such a box of broken bones. There are usually some at the bottom of the box but more than half of these are in pieces. Often, I feel their teeth as the three take pieces of bone eagerly from my fingers, not intentional but sharp like the unexpected prick of a needle while sewing. Where would they be if not chosen to live with me?
The three sleep as I write, secure in their routine.
Trust God from the bottom of your heart;
don't try to figure out everything on your own.
Listen for God's voice in everything you do,
everywhere you go;
He's the one who will keep you on track.
Don't assume that you know it all.
Proverbs 3: 5-7 (The Message)
Art: LJ Austin
