Be still, my trembling soul…
and know that rugged paths are often beautiful.
That deep canyons are caused by somebody’s world falling apart
and yet we find those canyons stirring. Joy rides her
fleet-footed wings in the morning but that means you can never outrun her face. And grief sitting in the sanctuary of the heart finds hope in the light that still finds its way in through stained glass windows.

Be still, my trembling soul…
for inside every origami prayer is a tiny world that has yet to be unfolded; not all unraveling is painful. And perhaps every angel picks up an orange swan,unfolds it carefully, and finds the fingerprints of a child.
Perhaps the tears you have cried are kept in a bottle where
God refolds your origami prayer into a boat and sits it in the bottle; a ship of faith that learns to sail upon the waves of pain.

Be still, my trembling soul…
for even your heroic ancestors caught only a glimpse of their inheritance;
they wept and embraced the far-off promise and one day you shall
weep and embrace your own.
But for now, my soul, cease your fearful tremors.Wander the rugged path He has set before your feet.
And tomorrow hear Him say to you:
“Trembling soul, tremble not; for I have prepared a Home for you.”