Tuesday, January 21, 2014


A glimpse of grace turns a mediocre day into a miraculous one.

I peek inside
 And remember an egg
Made of sugar with a small eye hole.
Close one eye–peep inside where 
Amazing tiny things stand on a stage of white;
Tiny flowers, a church with a steeple,
A cross, an empty tomb with a stone rolled aside.
Mysteries these–like God's grace.
An oval more mysterious than
An egg cannot be found;
Unless it is a tulip–orange, red, or yellow,
Just beginning to open to light
To let me peer inside 
To see its wonders–its shapes, its life,
Its promise, its mystery–
Like God's grace. 

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