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Maybe this is what Christ meant Not the triumphof armies or thunderbut this a bogstill remembering winterits dark waters loosenedonly nowfrom death’s hard seal And therewithout witnesswithout announcementone flower rises So smallthe world could miss it entirely Yet beauty does not define itselfin size It simply blooms And somehowthe fragile thingfills the whole lensuntil marsh… Read more
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I shaped Your name to fit my comforttrimming the edges of eternityso it might sit quietly in my reason But Truth does not shrinkIt burns with a light too purefor human hands to hold I called my confusion humilitymy compromise lovemy silence peace Yet Your holiness speaksin a voice that cannot be muteda flame that… Read more
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Three times I’ve known a mother’s grace,In different forms, one sacred place.My life has been so richly stirredBy love lived out in deed and word. My mom, the first to shape my days,Who guided me through winding ways.Her steady hands, her watchful care,Ever encircle everywhere. My wife, who walks this road with me,A living strength… Read more
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All are bornwith the same breath of God,the same imprint beneath the skin No color, class, or tongueadds weight to a soulno difference subtracts worth To wound another for what they areis to deny the Creatorwhose image they carry Equality is not an idea to debateit is a trutha command to obey -based on CCC1935 Read more
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I have carried this as faras my finite strength allows.My hands are tired of pretendingthey are sovereign. I can’t. I can’t bend this will into holiness,or stitch light into this torn heart.I have reached the edgeof myself. You can. You who spoke and oceans stood.You who breathe lifeinto dust and defiance alike.You whose mercy does… Read more
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The world tells meto build a life. Stack comfort upon comfort.Plan the years.Arrange the dayslike furniture in a well-lit room. A lifestyle. But dust decorates every shelfeventually. What good is a houseif the soul inside itremains unfinished? Lord Jesus, do not let me spend my breathconstructing habits of comfortwhile eternity waits at the door. Let… Read more
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A lovewhich leans not toward what is pleasing,nor the warmth that comes and goes,but something much deeper. This love descendslike quiet rain on stone,or a drenching rain on a dry field. A self-giving lovewhich does not askif the ground deserves it. It simply falls. It bends toward the broken,lingers with the unwanted,waits beside the wandering.… Read more
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I step into the box again. The field is wide.The pitcher focused. I have swung and missedmore times than I can count. Stillthe next pitch comes. And faith, like baseball,is simply this: Having the quiet courageto step in again. Remaining strong in faith. Read more
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I had given up, honestly.I had settled into the pewter sky, the long colorless fields,the particular silence of a world that has forgotten warmth. And then the forsythia, absurd,all yellow clamor at the edge of the still-frozen road,as if difficulty were nothing,as if cold were just a rumor it had heard and disbelieved. I stop.I… Read more
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Risen Lord,Your wounds remain openfor our sakein Your mercy. From Your pierced sideflows a riverno sin can exhaust,no sorrow outrun. Today the Church kneelsnot in judgmentbut in the endless patienceof Your Most Sacred heart. I come poor in holiness,late in repentance,slow to love. Still You sayCome. And in that single wordthe tomb is opened againand… Read more
