as much as i want to give up on this seemingly odd practice of looking for, inviting beauty into my life these days; it's needed. dark torrents of depression are only kept away by a weakening levee comprised of anti-depressants and prayer. so i need to remember who i am and why i'm here. and i need to seek beauty. it is one of the more important things i want my children to see of God, and for them to understand that the mysteries of beauty in the world and in themselves are deeper then physical fragility.
i read it here:
my heart shifts and is compelled by her words and her young life:
i start to cry because of his words, touching that deep place in my being, saying perfectly what i believe:
and what are all of these saying? they are beckoning me to listen, to observe, to feel. the waves calm and the skies lighten. i see the beauty in what a young girl did, how her parents cried in her near-death. malala is brave and loves her God. she seeks to bring life to others through education. she is a mover. and we can say, that is holy. that is sacred.
as for pico iyer, i feel a similar recognition of the beauty in the foreign. that is what compels me to love this place. to love the desert. to love this world we live in. because the world is full of beauty, like the sharp aromas of spices in the souq, there is intrigue and color and newness mixed with appreciation. and he goes on to call out my aches for home by simply saying that home is a place that we stand in. it is beneath my feet. can i accept that? it seems to quiet the worry and the longing for a different place to be my home. so i think i can.
and why would i pray if not to sit in the beauty of God? to be still and quiet long enough to understand the sacred in my life. the array of beauty in my days. for that spectrum is a gift.