Jessica L. Morris

If the stars alignand if the moon’s cycle is in sync; if the call of my ancestors is upon me and if the people of the earth are ready to receive me;if I do enough andif I pray enough – !HARD STOP!When my head stops spinning from the noisiness of this world and when my…

Impatience – a slippery slope that gains a smooth speed when I give in to it.Quickly, it blows my hair back with intolerance and judgment and then drops me flat and formless into self-righteous isolation. Climbing the mountain of enduring character may seem so much harder – but take my word for it,the view is…

I don’t know flowers – their species or scientific classification’s – but I do know the sweet, soft aroma of the lilac, instantly offering a picture of my mother, enjoying the first fresh air of spring flowing through the screens of her front room while she watches the neighborhood’s goings-on; or the vibrant summer honeysuckle…

So many voices greater than my ownout in the atmosphereacceptedrespected…while I sit heresinking intothemuckofmy self…like quicksandI feel its powerholding meslowly and steadilypulling me deeperand deeperwhile I do nothingbut sink…!SNAP OUT OF IT!…from somewhere inside I hear my voice screaming…How long have I been dreaming?

Faith is a funny thing – it answers the question“Why?”always with “…because…”and somehow gets away with it. Faith promises “…more will be revealed…”and somehow hope is born.Faith reminds “…be still and know…” and somehow calms a soul.Faith is a funny thing – it answers the question “Why?”always with“…because…” and somehow gets away with it.

The boulder of judgmentpressed into the groundbetween me and youcannot be rolled away or broken apart by me or by you; only the heart of God alive in our soulshas that kind of strength.But how can we knowit has been rolled away if we don’t look up?

The Potter cannot shape a petrified blockthat crumbles away into specks of dust…Nor can He mold a saturated lump that oozes away to avoid His trust……when the clay attempts to control its own formit leaves the Potter no options.

The subtle attack of interrupted sleep,sudden traffic jams,or a broken coffeemaker, can be the catapult to hopelessnessandhard-knowing doubt that seesonly sufferingstrugglestrife – if not for the Promisefrom Jeremiah (who, ironically, was attacked as well):a Promise for good,for hope, for restoration* – and yet, I still find myself asking:“What is the point of all this suffering?”…