I watched a gull today as he waddled before me, clumsily walking the water’s edge. His footprints were splayed into the sand, triangular shapes laid before me. I wondered why he walked instead of flying; why would one born to soar aloft choose instead the difficult and awkward task of walking? Then I began to wonder about myself. Why do I sometimes choose to live a life apart from God, even for brief moments when I could choose instead to be close to him? Why do I refuse to forgive myself when God has already forgiven me? Why do I reject God’s love when it is so freely given? Forgive me, Father, when I choose to walk clumsily on my own rather than soar by your side. Amen.
Over the weekend someone built an elaborate sandcastle on the beach, complete with turrets, shell door, and raised moat wall. I assume a mold was used to help shape the
Today we continue to recover from the storm, picking up bits of plastic and insulation blown into our yard from the construction project next door, trying to prop up plants
At this time of year, night seems to descend on the island differently than elsewhere. Like a worn quilt, the sky first has only thin places, worn spots that