Whispers of wonder

Just stop for a moment.

The world won't stop turning.

Pause and celebrate the whispered miracles.

The extravagant, tender touch of God.

You are very loved.


Much more than you can ever guess.


The signs of this are everywhere!

The proof of it is the empty cross.

Yet here, in Lent, in crevices and corners

The word is already urgent with the heartbeat of hope

Sunshine minting melt out of the throbbing seed

Birds blogging their falling forward into light

All chase and chirrup

Life that won't languish 

The crocus opens its smile for you.

Where are you rushing? Must it be now?

Whispers of wonder don't bawl, "Look, I'm special!"


Here's invitation, not mandate.

So stop - if you care to.

Then pass on, stroked and cherished,

Restored to the rush

More healed, made whole.

Jesus chose not to cope without these moments stolen


From crowds chasing


By the lapping shore's lulling,




Up the mountain among the studded, modest blossoms.

Stop. 

Let the breeze sniff you, surround you and drink you in.

Let the trees hold patterns of dappled canopy over you.

Let the leaf litter sink you a carpet of crunching to dance on.


Let yourself be embraced, just as you are, against His heart


Who knows you, and without flinching, loves you.


While spring comes tickling, transforming in!