There are two places sacred to me, my thinking spot and my sitting spot.
Early in the darkest of hours I sit in my sitting spot and I read. I write. I sip. I am still.
This morning I flipped open my journal and came across a little something I must have wrote while sitting on my mountain or as I call it, my thinking spot last summer.
I thought I’d share.
Listen to the Voice in the leaves
as they chatter in the wind.
It’s rythym breathes life like a
a ferocious whisper –
breathing deep into the
ressess of my heart.
My rhythm becomes His,
steady like an ever swaying metronome.
For just as sure as He is present
so shall I be.
It is well.
~August 14th 2014