Weekly Photo Challenge: Liquid

I love water, but reflections in water is a fascination.

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But a Reflection

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A reflection, broken, ever changing: We live here bound to the deep, layers upon layers,
sometimes muted, sometimes shimmering,
so real, so seemingly solid.
But reflection will not bear the weight.
Its wonder is what it mirrors—the real, the solid, the lasting.
Look up!

That I Am . . .

A p r o n h e a d -- Lilly

Be still . . .

     be quiet, unplug,

     no talk radio,

     no I-pod or I-pad or I-anything,

     no racing thoughts and mental list making.

And know . . .

     in my head,

     in my heart,

     in my emotions and stubborn pride places,

     really, really, really.

That I . . .

     relational You,

     intervening You,

     inviting, not just theoretical You,

    the I Am kind of You.

Am God . . .

     King of the universe,

     Lord and Creator of all,

     Friend come close and generous gift-giver,

     Lover . . . in spite of me.

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When You

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When you can’t cry, or will not because your heart is hard,

I will cry for you—tears to seek the cracks, a way in.

 

When you can’t listen, I will be your ears

to hear the hope in a flower, a bird, a melody.

 

When you can’t speak, I will whisper words your heart would say

in unguarded moments, if it could crawl from beneath the dead weight.

 

When you can’t believe—when your faith lisps with fragile emptiness,

I will believe in the darkness for both of us.

When you can’t pray, I will pray.

When you can’t,

when you won’t,

I will

with hope.