Thoughts Before a Sunday

It is Saturday night and not so late that I ought to be in bed. My children are sleeping soundly, and my kitchen's almost clean. Our Sunday best is pressed and waiting, everything feels exactly right.

I have a quiet moment to think on last week's Sabbath and pray for inspiration yet to come.

I'm staring at the blisters I earned while digging a duck pond, a duck pond for Pete's sake, this afternoon, and pondering creation, and feeling so proud and able I can hardly stand it.

We're all so scared and worried, no, I'm so scared and worried, when really we're all so dang competent the anxiety is baffling.

"You might say, 'I’m not the creative type. When I sing, I’m always half a tone above or below the note. I cannot draw a line without a ruler. And the only practical use for my homemade bread is as a paperweight or as a doorstop.'

If that is how you feel, think again, and remember that you are spirit daughters of the most creative Being in the universe."