Poetry

by Scribe Leaf Library · 1 min read · 2 views

Not for the mountain-moving kind of faith today, just enough to get the kettle on, to greet the ordinary in the ordinary way, to notice grace in tasks I lean upon. Let the folding of the laundry be enough. Let the traffic on the drive to work be prayer. I'm not asking You for anything too rough — just help me notice You are simply there, in dishwater and deadlines, in the hour before the household wakes and needs my hands, in coffee's steam, in ordinary power to keep on going, one more day, as planned. Not the mountain-moving kind of prayer, Lord — just the kind that trusts You with the ordinary dust.