When I forget that the whole world
is holy, even the tiny dark bugs that slip through window screens and flock and stick to kitchen lights, even the charred black remains of forest, even the river as it floods bright red, even when my cheeks are tear-stained and my body tightens with fear, that is when a kind letter from a stranger arrives in the mail, or the rabbit will stand on his back legs to nibble on mint, or the meadow will blaze with the day’s last slant of sunlight and my heart opens so wide that inside the fear rises praise. amen - rosemerry wahtola trommer - july 17, 2024
www.worldprayers.org
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