By Mary Oliver
Dear Lord, I have swept and I have washed but
still nothing is as shining as it should be
for you. Under the sink, for example, is an
uproar of mice—it is the season of their
many children. What shall I do? And under the eaves
and through the walls the squirrels
have gnawed their ragged entrances- but it is the season
when they need shelter, so what shall I do? And
the raccoon limps into the kitchen and opens the cupboard
while the dog snores, the cat hugs the pillow;
what shall I do? Beautiful is the new snow falling
in the yard and the fox who is staring boldly
up the path, to the door. And still I believe you will
come, Lord: you will, when I speak to the fox,
the sparrow, the lost dog, the shivering sea goose, I know
that really I am speaking to you whenever I say,
as I do all morning and afternoon: Come in, Come in.
By Ched Myers, the 3rd Sunday in Advent (Luke 3:7-18)
By Thomas Merton (+December 10+)
By Grace Aheron
The following is the third post in a series by Kate Foran about exploring an alternative kindergarten education for her daughter Sylvie.
By Justin Ashworth, first published in
An excerpt from Rebecca Solnit’s recent dispatch
by Madeleine L’Engle
By Sheldon Good & Cyrus McGoldrick, originally posted to
By Rose Marie Berger. Continuing series on badass biblical women.