With the rising of the sun, You stretch my soul and breathe into my lungs. In the still heat of the noonday, You close my eyes and illumine my soul. In the silence of the late afternoon, You steady my feet and shake the sand from my shoes. With the lengthening shadows of the setting sun, You hold me in your arms and remind me of my last breath. My God and My God and My God, Why do you remain with me As sinful as I am? My God and My God and My God, Why do you save me from myse

When in the morning A light breeze awakens my mind, I remember You walked the earth. When in the afternoon A hot gust shutters my senses, I remember You suffered on the cross. When in the evening A cool wind enlivens my heart, I remember You resurrected on the third day. When in the night A silence settles over the cosmos, I remember You ascended into Heaven. All this? For me? For us? And there's more? Unworthy as I am, I ecstatically await With bated breath For the coming of

It is getting late and My head hangs low. It is darker now and My tears begin to flow. It is desperate all round so My hands grasp Because they know. The divine language of love, Played on a rope Made of silence. With humility and love, I implore you. Give me shelter, So I may pray through the nights. "O Mistress, Empress and Lady, Defend all who are in danger and misfortune Or weak from many sins, And who stand before your holy Icon Praying with tears, humility, repentance,

Mary, Most Holy, and Mother of my God. My model, My refuge, and My love. I seek, and With humility, I ask To approach your Life-Giving Spring? With all my heart, I pray... Revive, Restore, and Renew me. "O Lady graced by God, you reward me by letting gush forth, beyond reason, the ever-flowing waters of your grace from your perpetual Spring. I entreat you, who bore the Logos, in a manner beyond comprehension, to refresh me in your grace that I may cry out, 'Hail redemptive wa

Empty and loveless is the world founded by man, Built for his own edification. Angry and hopeless is the world fueled by man, Possessed by his own pride. Bleak and faithless is the world formed by man, Twisted by his own conceit. These dead waters never quench The thirst born deep inside. Only Christ, The Son of the Living God. The water He is, By whom you will never be thirsty. The water He gives, Gushes up toward eternal life. Give me this living water, So that I may never

Seeing darkness, I watch the clouds build on the horizon. Assuming rain, I wait for the clouds to whip up the sea and the sand. What really comes? Not clouds, but a cloud. The cloud. "The angel said to her, ‘The Holy Spirit will come upon you, and the power of the Most High will overshadow you; therefore the child to be born will be holy; he will be called Son of God'" (Luke 1:35). Rejoice in the cloud that Overshadows. Rejoice in the cloud that brings Light. Rejoice in the c

When I gaze upon the still waters, I feel the breeze of your loving insistence. When I gaze upon the still waters, I hear the calm from your enveloping silence. When I gaze upon the still waters, I smell the incense of your everlasting persistence. When I gaze up on the still waters, I taste the love in your embracing sustenance. When I gaze upon the still waters, I see the light of your glistening countenance. How can this be, Through such a life? The Most Holy Trinity, One

I walk along the water’s edge, Aware that I live in liminal spaces. One foot seemingly on solid ground, Relying on what’s familiar. Grasping for something that comforts, Stuck in the here and now. I walk along the water’s edge, Aware that I do not want to live in between. Remembering the familiar waters of Baptism, Relying on what cannot be seen. Reaching out beyond my capacity, Toward the there and then. I walk along the water’s edge, Aware of the rocks piercing my feet. Or

The Great Feast of the Entrance of the Theotokos is the celebration of the presentation of Mary, the Mother of God, who was brought by Joachim and Anna (her parents) to the Temple in Jerusalem to live and serve until her betrothal to Joseph. We deeply cherish this feast because we honor Mary as "the abode of heaven" (from the Troparion of the Feast) and "the heavenly tabernacle" (from the Kontakion of the Forefeast). On this day we bask in the glory of Mary who "let it be don

"The silence of the soul is one of the mysteries of the coming age." - St. Isaac the Syrian, The Four Books of St. Isaac the Syrian, Bishop of Nineveh (3, Arabic version). A photo of the sun peering through the clouds over mountains and the water. If you have a question or prayer request, please reach out here. If you can donate, please click here.