The quieter you are, the more grace you hear.
We go down to the river and water has this way of showing me how to listen.
Their toes make this pattering dance in the stream.
Light drips from their hems.
Their voices and laughter drifts up into trees.
Maybe it’s this — a stillness before God invites the setting aside of achieving — to allow the simple grace of receiving.
I can see how it’s happening — our hands opening.
Bent over a river, netting grace.