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April 28, 2006

Standing at my front porch, a sheet of rain showered the yard and beyond. A peaceful hush save the soothing fall of rain. A pause in time, I gazing out into the vastness of the late night and early morning–the pivotal point where you neither know if it’s night or morning–it just is. I lingered for more than a moment,experiencing the cool front approach. Arms crossed on top of one another as to trap some warmth. Barefoot, I felt free. No one around but me–and God. Everything placid. Not a ripple. Silence. All sleeping, as one should at this time. I couldn’t help it, honest. I always find myself looking for those moments of stillness. The break of dawn. The silence between notes. The break between songbird and cricket. The exchange between late night and early morning. God’s presence consumes me. I long for these moments; though brief, they consume and fill until I overflow.

Walking to homegroup I spotted these perfectly round and fluffy dandelions. An urge in me to pick one and blow it, I bent down to snatch one up, examining the intricacy and beauty. My breath escaped me and the individual seeds dispersed, scattering in all directions, blowing in the wind. I watched as they cascaded across the field.

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