Quiet Reflections and Prayers
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
And so I began
to listen to the one
continuous quiet prayer
in my heart.
And though it was
painfully subtle at times.
I came to know
this quiet voice
as my deepest connection
and healing.
What Now became
a choice in each moment,
the courage to release
everything held
so carefully for so long —
again and again.
It was the conviction
to stand firmly
in a space of not knowing —
the willingness to loosen
my grip on life —
the choice to wait for inspiration
and higher thoughts.
I vowed to be still in my heart
just long enough
for words to form
to comfort all that was
unsettled in me.
And then I found
the comfort came before
the words,
in my willingness to be
with all that is here —
in the presence of
my own soul.
May I be guided today by grace. May I have the patience to wait for higher thoughts. May I be moved by inspiration and love and creative flow — viewing each experience that crosses my path as an alternate route to tenderness. Amen
Laurie's Notes 