Sunday Hearts

It's Sunday morning and I'm driving to the Book Sale, listening to The Last Song by Nicholas Sparks on audio CD.  I pass the big church and its full parking lot as I listen to the part of the book where Ronnie reads the last letter that her dad wrote to her, and my eyes are tearing as I think about love and grace and forgiveness, and I feel my heart changing.  It's church in my car this morning.

Slowing down at the book sale, I graze tables of books, finding many to bring home to my family. No one wanted to join me, so it's my own adventure today. I talk to a couple ladies about the Holocaust as I make my purchase, supporting the library, because I bought a copy of Anne Frank's Diary
just in case I didn't still have mine. We share our amazement at the strength of the Jewish people who have survived so much.  Through the years and the persecution, the culture reigns strong. It says a lot, we all agree, as we talk about other books we've read (Sarah's Key , The Inextinguishable Symphony, Night, Things We Couldn't Say), share stories about people we've known, and I think about my own ancestors who were able to escape to America.

Upon leaving, I slow down once again, to park and walk towards a sign I need to photograph.

If it weren't for Clytie's Random Hearts, I probably wouldn't have thought twice about it.

My beyond walls worship experience continues as I find refuge in moments of peace found in a hidden little luxury full of wildflowers, birds in trees, ladybugs on leaves, butterflies fluttering and water flowing, by the place I've parked my car in order to photograph these spray painted peace hearts.

I thank God for His guidance and His presence in my life as I sit here thinking about how it'll be just fine to continue this adventure today, for a little while.

I continue listening to The Last Song, and am again teary-eyed about Ronnie finishing the composition of her father's piano piece by overlaying her notes within it, and her dad's quote,“Life, he realize, was much like a song. In the beginning there is mystery, in the end there is confirmation, but it's in the middle where all the emotion resides to make the whole thing worthwhile.”  ― Nicholas Sparks, The Last Song

At the old mill, the wheels are turning continuously, keeping the water flowing, and I breathe in the trustworthy smell of old must as the wheels in my head perpetuate too.

The writing on the wall says "free love, man", and I hear on the radio later about God's love being free and being for everybody and crossing boundaries, and again I thank Him.

For life's sermons today, I thank Him.

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Thank you, Clytie for featuring this, too!