Marching Brand

The moon hangs white, like a frosted ornament, out my window. The ocean, in ear shot, rumbles like the tummy of the world digesting our history. The human, the animal, the natural and the spiritual

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Even in my ugliness, he loved me still

Wounds of the heart can grow bitterness. Ugliness. Anguish, or distress.

Or … wounds of the heart can grow good seeds of grain, crushed to produce life-giving bread to feed others. Deep faith can grow with roots steady and strong. Eyes can open to see abounding grace and the abiding presence of the Lord.

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