Glory


The sun rises and kisses the trees with light so golden it makes me believe in magic.

And the hills across the valley are spring-green. And purple lilac buds grow plump. And yesterday morning I saw, too many to count, mountain bluebirds flit back and forth from the budding Virginia creeper to the lawn and back again; and later cheerful yellow finches did the same.

“Glory is what God looks like when for the time being all you have to look at him with is a pair of eyes,” Buechner reminds us. Surely these momentary visions from my living room window are as glorious as anything can be.

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I’m a writer, reader, and creative. I thought by now I’d have things figured out, but I keep coming up with more questions. I think that’s okay. I’m here most mornings pondering ordinary things and the thin places where faith intersects.
1 comment
  1. Your writing is so beautiful Linda. I could picture the bluebirds and finches flitting back and forth. At the moment I am looking at four walls so I appreciate the images. Ben and I were in an accident. All okay except I have a sprained foot and our truck is wrecked…I wrote some on the blog but I haven’t written about all the grace we experienced after the accident.

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