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Envy Not

Envy Not

take stock

Are you counting your blessings or someone else’s?

I read this Harold Coffin quotation that has me thinking: “Envy is the art of counting the other fellow’s blessings instead of your own.”  And that reminds me of this old hymn I used to sing as a child, “Count your blessings, name them one by one.” And that has me thinking I’ll redouble my efforts, tuck some of my blessings into the spiritual piggy bank we all carry at the center of our souls.

And it makes me wonder, what blessings are you counting today?

Speak Kindly

Speak Kindly

speak kindly

Speak Kindly:

to your family, to your friends, to the people you meet along the way. On the internet, while standing in a long line at the post office, to the person “just doing their job” on the phone. Speak kindly to your children, to other people’s children, to the dog when you’ve had a hard day. Speak kindly to yourself! Because every word does matter!


Note: Typically, I post a photo for Sunday’s Sermon. However, this poster has been on my mind all week. For more information on Love is Louder and to help turn up the volume on Tuesday click here: Love is Louder.  Poster by Studio Mela

All Along

All Along

washingtonbarn

Some keep the Sabbath going to Church-
I keep it, staying at Home-
With a Bobolink for a Chorister-
And an Orchard, for a Dome-

Some keep the Sabbath in Surplice-
I just wear my Wings-
And instead of tolling the Bell, for Church,
Our little Sexton-sings.

God preaches, a noted Clergyman-
And the sermon is never long,
So instead of getting to Heaven, at least-
I’m going, all along.  ~~Emily Dickinson

A special thank you to Gwen, for sending me the poem. It serves as a lovely way to begin again.

Sunday Sermon — Asking by Dan Fante

ASKING

For years I thought that
talking to the Gods
was an exercise
done privately
under
unforgiving

distant stars

ridiculous unrequited prayer
done by staring
at old cold books
with mean small print

But then I discovered
that just
ain’t
it at all

God can be found in the ‘thank you’ voice of the guy at the counter
at the 7-11
or
the quietness of a stranger’s parking lot smile
or
the rattle of weeds across a dry summer Mojave
or
watching my untethered fingers jump jump jumping
across the keys
deep in the middle of typing three hours worth of unscrubbed truth

God – for me – turned out to be
a conscious choice
a self-evoked experience

just
like
love

~~Dan Fante 2008

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