Journal of Sacred Work
Caregivers have superpowers! Radical Loving Care illuminates the divine truth that caregiving is not just a job. It is Sacred Work.
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When you accuse yourself of unworthiness you are robbing your own spirit. Time to pay yourself back, to recognize that you are enough. You are, as Rumi writes, “the crescent moon put up/ over the gate to the festival.”
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All shall be well, and all shall be well, and all manner of thing shall be well… for there is a Force of love moving through the universe that holds us fast and will never let us go. ~Julian of Norwich Shared by Liz Sorensen Wessel Pencil drawing by…
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Note: offered by Liz Sorensen Wessel I am a thousand winds that blow.I am diamonds that glint on snow. I am sunlight on ripened grain.I am the gentle autumn rain. When you awaken in the morning hushI am the swift uplifting rush of butterflies in joyous flight. -unknown Watercolor by ~liz
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Note: This reflection is by guest contributor, Terry Chapman As I stepped carefully down a steep bank, beside a huge old Oak tree, into the cold waters of the Swift River in western MA, one fine summer day years ago, I leaned my favorite fly rod up against the massive trunk of an old Oak…
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A hyperactive child I remain a hyperactive adult. Hyperactivity interferes with gratitude. There is one path to gratitude: Learning to savor. We can only “now-live” if we slow down by savoring.
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Oh, not to be separated, shut off from the starry dimensions by so thin a wall. What is within us if not intensified sky traversed with birds and deep with winds of homecoming? ~Rainer Maria Rilke, Uncollected Poems A great many challenges confront us in our world today that cause us deep grief, worry and…
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She has put “one foot in front of the other” more times than anyone I know. The elegance & grace with which she has done that has kept many shadows at bay – for others whose lives she has illuminated as well as for herself.
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Shared by Liz Sorensen Wessel How the Stars Get In Your Bones ~by Jan Richardson Sapphire, diamond, emerald, quartz: think of every hard thing that carries its own brilliance, shining with the luster that comes only from uncountable ages in the earth, in the dark, buried beneath unimaginable weight, bearing what seemed impossible, I tell…
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Does unwrapping morning’s gift “a ribbon at a time” take too long? Only if we have decided that rushing is more important than living.