Saturday, March 19, 2011


        Grace loved to play dress up. Every day the six year old would climb the old wooden steps up into the attic. It was her own special place. A place that took her on many wonderful adventures; magical forests, kingdoms built on clouds, and secret underwater cities. There were stacks of old trunks filled with costumes of all sizes and colors, but her favorite item was an old wedding dress. No one really knew where it had come from or who had worn it, all that mattered to Grace was that it was hers for the keeping. She would stand in front of the antique full length mirror that her mother had picked up at a garage sale to aid Grace in her attic adventures, and image herself the most beautiful bride. The dress of course was far too big for the the girl's petit frame and the bottom of the dress pooled around her feet giving the impression that she was standing in a satin cloud. The lace around the neck and sleeves was stained and torn and the dress smelled slightly of moth balls, but non of this mattered to the little girl. In fact, she didn't even notice these slight blemishes. When she gazed into the mirror all she saw was a beautiful girl wearing a perfectly fitted white dress with a veil flowing gracefully behind her, a bouquet of exquisite red roses clutched in her delicate hands as she walked down the aisle of old suitcases and boxes to meet her prince charming. She was truly the envy of all brides.
        Often Grace would still be lost in her wonderful attic world when her father arrived home from work. He would stand at the bottom of those old wooden stairs and call up to her.
"What game is my little princess playing today?"
Her could hear the patter of little feet running across the wooden floorboards. She appeared at the top of the stairs, her soft green eyes wide with the excitement of seeing her father and a radiant smile upon her lips.
"Oh, Daddy, look! I'm a beautiful bride!"
        The Father's reaction echoed his daughter's as he stood beaming at the sight of his precious little girl bounding down the steps still clutching the hem of her dress in one hand and in the other a handful of field flowers she'd picked earlier that day.
        Through the eyes of anyone else the girl would simply be seen as she was. A simple girl with messy brown curls, in a dress that was far too big for her with stains of juice and dirt down the front, and dirty fingers curled around some weeds . But this was not at all how the father saw her as he watched his little girl run towards him. He only saw the most beautiful girl with green eyes that reflect joy and life. He saw a stunning pure white dress that seemed to flow so elegantly behind her as her little feet lept from stair to stair and hands that clutch the flowers the he knows were picked with such delicate care.
       The tender unfailing love for his little girl does not allow him to view her any other way. In the eyes of the Father she is beautiful, precious, and pure. 
       As she leaps into his open arms he draws her close and whispers gently into her ear, 
"And you are truly the most beautiful bride I have ever seen."

Wednesday, October 27, 2010

The Little Daisy

The Daisy is a simple flower,
yet delicate in beauty.
Her petals soft and her delicate, her scent so bright and cheery.
But when she is drinking in the warmth of the sun,
that is when she shines brightest.
For the sun is the source of her energy which flows
through her green veins causing life to be portrayed
on her round petaled canvas.

But as the bees come to dance among the flowers
and tickle their noses, the little daisy gets distracted.
She only thinks about how nice it would feel to be
visited by a bee.
She felt certain that she would be complete
if only she had bee to complement her velvet fingers.
The little daisy becomes so enraptured with this idea
that she forgets all about the Sun.
Every morning she stands up tall and smiles,
but forgets to turn to the Sun.

At first the little Daisy was so happy
for she had many bees coming to visit,
but after a while she begins to wither.
Her colors fade, her petals droop,
and the bees no longer come to visit.
She tries so hard to attract the bees once more,
but they have abandoned her for better things.

She has no source of life.
and she will soon wither away and be forgotten.

But take heart little Daisy not all is lost!
For the Sun shines every day
and always gives nourishment to those who seek it.

With one last effort the little Daisy lifts her face to the Sun
for she knows this is her last hope.
She feels a tingle as her leaves soak up the warmth with fervor
and life flows once again through her delicate body.

Now the little Daisy stands once more
with her head lifted toward the Sun
as she basks in it's beauty.
She is once more her cheerful self
as she reflects to light of the Sun
as she was designed to do.
The familiar sounds of buzzing is heard
all around her, but she gives it no thought.
She only wants to reflect.

She barely notices as once again
she is visited by a single honey bee.
But even when she does become aware,
she shines all the more brighter.

Tuesday, October 26, 2010

A Simple Prayer

" Take my life and let it be,
consecrated Lord to three.
  Take my moments and my days
let them flow with ceaseless praise."

Lord, you are a mighty God with a gentle hand.
I want to be satisfied in you and learn to dwell deeply
in your grace.
You made magnificent mountains and laid out the stars of the heavens,
yet you've chosen a insignificant girl like me to be part of your big plan.
Out of all your creation you chose me to be a reflection of who you are.
Who am I that you should reveal pieces of your splendor to?
Oh Lord, I cannot fathom your power and glory,
but I do know that you are a God of radical love
and this radical love that you have for me brings glory to your name.

Sunday, October 17, 2010

Looking Up

The little girl sat with her feet in the stream.
 The bubbling water was soothing to her aching feet.
The hem of her red summer dress had a tear and her face and hands were smeared with dirt,
but she didn't mind.
 Her sandy brown blew gently across her forehead as a friendly summer breeze caressed her face.
The innocent green eyes gazed inquisitively up in to the sky as a wispy cloud drifted lazily by.
 She smiles.
For she knew that her Father was gazing upon her precious face.
 The words, " You are loved," came to mind.