As we move too quickly from the Christmas season to a new year I want to say:  “don’t leave yet, stay around awhile longer.”   During our early morning walk, (James and I)  Christmas lights  still glistened in my neighbor’s homes and trees.  I wanted to hold on to their quiet beauty.  It rained hard last night and we had to dodge large puddles on our path. The dark heavy sky and the silence of the morning reminded me  of “joy and sadness” woven into the tapestry of our lives.  All during the hustle and bustle of the days leading up to Christmas and the following days I have looked for something special to share with you.  I found it yesterday written by Howard Thurman.

THE SINGING OF ANGELS

There must be always

remaining in every life,

someplace for the singing of angels.

Some place for that

which in itself

is breathless and beautiful.

Old burdens become lighter

deep and ancient wounds

lose much of their old hurting.

Despite all the crassness of life,

all the hardness and

harsh discords,

life is saved by

the singing of angels.

May we all hear the singing of angels. 

Tally

 

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