Our culture teaches us to think of God as a judging father. But in my times of prayer I have come to know our Creator both as a tender father AND a loving mother ( Isaiah 49:15).
I want to share an excerpt from the poem Presence, written by poet and essayist Edwina Gately.
God is present
in the wood stove and the oil lamp,
in the gathering shadows
and the silent stars.
If she does not seem present
in my heart and soul -
it is because I have limited God too much.
Perhaps I should listen more intently
to the wood cackling,
and watch more closely,
the oil wick flicker,
to allow God's presence
to envelop me.
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