Vacation of Solitude, Day Two:

Camping along the Russian River near Duncan’s Mill


4 o’clock Walk

I’m mesmerized as I memorize
Nuances of greens
Shapes of leaves
Sway of trees
Clouds descending with the sun
A gentle chirping just begun

I’m mesmerized as I memorize
The diamond dance of rippling
light
On rivers where the bird alights
And of those remained in flight

I’m mesmerized as I memorize
Mountains of trees
Caress of breeze
The way he always cares for me

I’m mesmerized as I memorize
Underwater agriculture—luminescent lime
Product of sun’s radiance plus a little time

My eyes: they feast
My soul gets drunk
My feet … don’t want … to move
(I can not seem to move)
I’m mesmerized as I memorize …

6 o’clock: Private Beach

i.
Wine and cheese

Hair blown by the breeze

Fog settling on trees:

Gift of the sea

Oh mercy me!

ii.
Blue heron stalking

Black birds
talking

Small birds
flocking


Cormorants drying their
wings:

This is the way of all
living things

Later Reflections

The River becomes a mirror

Of all that surrounds it:

Birds, sky, and trees;

What does it reflect of me?

Time to slow down and

Keep pace between time and

Eternity

by Diann Enderby

Israel

is this my inheritance
that you promised?
always running
hunted, haunted
never quite home
never done wrestling
grasping for peace
begging for blessing
not quite what i
expected or
signed up for
this waiting
always waiting
struggling with you
and a wrenched hip
to prove it
again i ask
for blessing
you call me
israel

by christina douglas

You're Blessed When...

It seems like I should feel
A tingle in my soul
Flying freely
Stepping lightly

If I could feel it
I imagine it would be
An airy exuberance
A Peaceful wave

I would dance
on marshmallow roads -
sit lightly on
a swing of cottontails

And I would feel blessed.

I feel blessed when the baby
Sleeps through the night
Or when the budget isn’t tight

I feel blessed when I look
Into my sons sparkling eyes
When no one’s crying

God says I am blessed
When I am at the end of my rope
When I have lost what is most
Dear to me

I want to cry out to him
“How can this be?”

I wonder about my sister
My niece and nephew
Left by their father

I wonder about my aunt –
Murdered, and our family –
Shackled in unforgiveness

Where is God in this?
Where is the blessing in this?
How can I see the other side of it?

Cliché’s and empty dreams
Silly illusions and nonsensical schemes
They mean absolutely nothing
I am realizing….

Unless God is at the core -
Unless God is at the root -
If we dig down deep enough
If we step inside and stretch far enough

He says we can see Him in
The outside world –
His presence in our pain –
That is our blessing.

Somehow I am blessed
When the baby is up all night
The kids are crying
And money is tight.

Somehow I am blessed
When I can turn my cheek
And walk confidently
Into a world of broken dreams

Without my Father
Beside me
I would crumble at my core
And I would snap in defeat.

I am beginning to understand,
He is my blessing.

by Stacy Dover

My Mountain Top Experience

Frustrated, near tears
I crush the dirt under
My feet.
Smashing my thoughts
Into dust.

It doesn’t have to matter
What God wants!
My heart says I want
Peace.
It doesn’t have to matter
What I want…
He says,
Trust in ME

I shrug in defiance
And push my Father away
Life’s pressures burn
Through my throat

My chest tightens
Tears pool up and
Runneth over my eyes
into my empty, cupped hands

A breeze caresses the birds’ melodic
Tones of joy
They sing because
They are
They cheer because
He is

I dwell in a corner
Under a pine tree
And I DECLARE
the needles too prickly

I DECLARE Him
Too d i s t a n t
For me

Now close by
I hear a snake rattling
In its midst the weeds
Sway innocently, dancing
A hush calms deep
within me

I watch in awe and slowly
My frustration turns
To grief.

I fear because I am
H e l p l e s s
I run because I want
S t r e n g t h
I cry because I
G i v e u p
On myself
And I hope in

E t e r n a l g r a c e.

by Stacy Dover

My Roadside Savior

Through stone roads I walk
Feet strapped tightly in heavy,
dirty leather boots
I trudge through

What is born of compromising?
Small pebbles
Turn to stones
Twisting and harboring in
The soft arches of
My feet

Sores open
As hard edges rub
Into each thin piece of flesh

Whom have I lived for?
Numbing pebbles
Turn to ignorance
Slowly burrowing in
The outer memory of
My heart

Scabs coat
As the blood runs
Outside each raw
wound

Who is my Savior?
He casts aside pebbles
I turn to grace
Seeping and soaking
The inner crevice of
My soul

Feet loose
As water flows
Through his hands as
He rubs my feet

Where is my Peace?
My boots are loose again
Free inside
Soft leather soles contort to my
Wounded arch

Protection from the rough road
I trudge on
With him
My Savior!
Watching from behind
Guarding me, guiding me
Forward

by Stacy Dover

One

There is one body and one Spirit-
just as you were called to one hope
when you were called-
one Lord, one faith,
one baptism;
one God and Father of all
who is over all
and through all
and in
all
who enter this place-
find peace; be free
there will be
no doctrine here
but the Creed
we have no need
or use for stale
programmed religion
for we know nothing
except Jesus Christ
and him crucified.
if Truth you seek
you are welcome here
all others, please
leave your dogma
at the door

christina douglas