The Face of Grace

Paint brush

I saw grace today. She appeared in many forms…many faces.

A little bird was stuck atop a precarious flag pole. The wind whipped and I marveled at its persistent perch. I began to wonder if her stay there was intentional or abandonment. I whispered a prayer for my feathered friend. It wasn’t long after she swooped away- off on an unknown mission.

Her safe departure?——–

     Grace.

The 3 am hail that struck our home was nothing more than melted puddles by 6 am.

The fact that standing water was the only sign of their arrival?——– [Read more…]