Posted: September 15, 2014 in Uncategorized, When Church Hurts
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It’s a beautiful morning to gaze out my front window. With each passing second the sky is becoming brighter, the dark horizon, pierced only seconds ago by distant yard lights is gradually becoming more distinct. Clouds, hazy gray span the sky, yet, look! Not just gray! Gray with a bit of peach and steel blue.

Now the trees, just a moment ago part of a flat-black pallette, declare themselves. Rooftops and farm houses reveal themselves and I can see the light on the grain elevator in the town eighteen miles north of our house.

More peach. And the fields are beginning to turn from the black of night to the green and gold of dawn. Blooming weeds in the ditch across the road bloom with gold and white.

More and more is revealed with each passing second. The world outside my window is waking and revealing to me the beauty that surrounds my life. Beauty undisturbed by the harsh judgment of people over thirty miles away. Beauty and majesty as the sky, still enshrouded in gray clouds, tinged with peach, fields of bounty, pinpoints of light in the distance, birds and crickets and the swishing tails of my dogs outside my back door remind me once again that I am deeply, deeply blessed. Deeply, deeply loved. Deeply, deeply loving and giving and caring.

And all is well.

“And I think to myself, what a wonderful world.”


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