By Michelle Webster-Hein

February 3, 2014


This morning at church I plunked out the four parts of an old hymn while above my chords the congregation’s voices took flight. And I thought of geese bursting up together from the edge of a pond where they had been napping and squabbling and pecking for fish.

Sometimes it is hard for me to believe in God, heaven, restoration, but it is easy on Sundays, when the Mennonites sing, to suspect that goodness is always paddling about at the edges of things.

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Comments (2) - Post a Comment
For the past three days that I have been reading your writings my heart catches as I visualize your words. Tears come to me as I praise you for helping me look at the world in a different way.
Mary Miller at 10:14am EST - February 3, 2014
These snippets are hopeful and lovely to read. Thank you. A great idea for short flash with staying power.
ryder ziebarth at 1:40pm EST - February 3, 2014

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