The more I dared
to hold a space of love,
the closer I seemed to be
to a deeper part of me.
At a certain point it was
most natural to be this space
in my heart
and in the world.
This is where I found
my deepest comfort and peace.
Quiet Reflections and Prayers
The more I dared
to hold a space of love,
the closer I seemed to be
to a deeper part of me.
At a certain point it was
most natural to be this space
in my heart
and in the world.
This is where I found
my deepest comfort and peace.
Sometimes the only thing
I knew to do
was to keep going,
which undoubtedly meant
surrendering to the creative flow
of life.
And so there was the
painful dropping of pieces
I had held so carefully
and an understanding
I seemed to have with God
that I would sometimes
hold on a little longer,
push ahead,
lose my center,
and struggle to find any
resemblance of grace.
But I would always keep going.
Each time another challenge arose,
I was reminded of how
it could have been —
had I not allowed the process
of expanding to happen
so freely.
There was frustration as old
patterns and emotions were
brought to the surface,
and I was tempted to retreat–
just a little.
I learned to turn
inward and hold my ground —
refusing to quit before
the next tender place
was reached.
Sometimes my prayer sounded
more like a tired scream through
swallowed tears
than a comforting whisper.
But there was always
tenderness close by —
as I dared to keep going.
Hold us a little tighter when we can’t find our way — as we can’t see the whole picture, and it’s easy to be frightened of the in-between times from here. Help us to honor all that has felt dishonored in our own hearts — that we might honor all things more deeply. Amen
–Laurie, What Now
It was the small miracles,
the quiet inspirations, that kept my heart
pressing on long enough
to find a path that didn’t lead
further away from itself.
It was the gentle, comforting way
words formed out of nothingness
and courage was found
to look challenges in the face —
knowing the transformative power
of surrender first hand.
It was the remembrance of the
turning away from my own heart
and that first step
taken to find a way back.
There was a quiet connection
within my heart
that never left.
Words flowed from somewhere
beyond time –
comforting and creating
space for healing –
a path through
all that was painful
into a place of ever-evolving
tenderness.
And so there was
a quieting,
a sacred holding,
the journey within —
where all was dissolved
into the purest love.
Sadness lingered there.
Tender memories
found their place
and helped to form
words to point the way
to subtle mysteries
and treasures
only the most tender hearts
could hold.
It was the subtle release into a gentle flow that taught me how to soften. Relief came each time I found just enough courage to listen and to soften my own heart a little more.
It came in the quiet pauses just before words of comfort began to form and lingered sweetly — forever.
When I looked back, after a while, the story I had carried had faded. It was the subtler, sometimes painfully subtle story beyond the surface that kept my attention.
It was the faint memory of all the times I had managed to allow a quieting, just enough to hear the quiet prayer spoken from my own heart — somewhere long ago.
It was each moment I had allowed my heart to remain open, even though I was sure I didn’t know how to continue on, that had woven a more beautiful story — somehow.
I let go,
trusting that wherever
the pieces fall will
be okay —
possibly even more
beautiful than if
I had tried to fit
them together
on my own.
— Laurie, What’s Right Here