by Deb Farris | Mar 2, 2018 | Devotions, Poetry
Senses be still, hush my heart. As the ripples extend outward across the water so Joy will spread, beyond all comprehension, century upon century, its fruit still bearing. Photo credit: Todd Farris
by Deb Farris | Jan 23, 2018 | Musings
From kitchen window broom stands against garage door, askew. What lies beyond the door of this day—off center, all lopsided and cockeyed? I rinse my cup and listen to water rushing from the faucet through my fingers. Cup shines. What can bear a stain? Day unfolds in...
by Deb Farris | Dec 8, 2017 | Greater Good, Musings
I stopped taking a glass of water to bed at night. When cat wants me up, she knocks off whatever is on the nightstand. And cat is keeping me green. Those flimsy recyclable plastic water bottles make a crashing sound like breaking glass that wakes even deaf dog. Only...
by Deb Farris | Dec 2, 2017 | Greater Good, Musings
I had an article due for our newsletter on Friday and I didn’t make my deadline. We went with something else. I thought I had a good subject, the Journey of Joy—huh. After many rewrites, I began to feel like I had no idea what joy is. The more I thought about it and...
by Deb Farris | Nov 25, 2017 | Musings
I wait as she rises from the darkness at dawn, shaking off night’s debris. She never forces her way in, she has traveled the distance and knows steadiness. She seems to sense that I can only take her presence in slowly, sometimes imperceptibly, until she can crack the...
