A Gift Guides Me.
The well speaks.
We stand by the well, a thirsty crowd has gathered. The last rains were long ago. Before we draw, someone sets out a handmade stool.
We will slake their thirst, you and me, one cup by one cup.
There is enough for all. There is unlimited supply.
The craftsperson does not speak.
Their work does.
Lord, your gifts are measured out to me one day by one day, steps along a journey. Let me see how long and joyous is the road.
Consider:
How am I being invited to surrender?
Reading:
“Every artist was first an amateur.” — Ralph Waldo Emerson