8:18
Colors this extravagant feed my ongoing musing about hope.
The man on the corner looks like yet another urban panhandler.
The glittering stone in a Manhattan shop window has stopped me in my tracks.
It’s one of the great Aha! moments in Scripture.
The twilight sky over Boston’s intertidal flats is glorious.
Walking jacketless on a February morning is a welcome surprise.
Now this is a challenge I can admire.
 It’s 8:18 on the back roads of Pennsylvania and I’m hunting for a tower.
In the alley, the clock glows like a cat’s-eye moon.

Rubble

February 4, 2019
The familiar pile of debris is quite dramatic in the snow.
There is nothing more isolating than darkness.
I am finding it hard to keep up with the young, black pastor’s flow of words.
“Isn’t this landscape beautiful?” the woman asks.
At 8:18 tonight, the view from the plane window is stunning.
The clouds above us are twisted, as if the sun has wrestled them to break through.

Today's ReVision

Not Mere Good Feeling

If feeling good is what you're after, you'd better take another look at your faith.

Join the Ailbe Community

The Fellowship of Ailbe Newsletters