Dear Diary,
This morning at Mass, Father LeRoy’s homily was all about faith. He said faith is like planting a seed deep in the soil and trusting that God will make it grow, even when we can’t see what’s happening under the ground. He told us that sometimes storms will come, and the wind will bend the branches, but if our roots are deep in God, we won’t fall. I liked that picture in my mind—like one of the big oaks at the edge of the pasture.
After chores, Mini and I walked down to the cave, and sure enough, Shaggycoat was in the shallows near the bank, paddling around like he had the whole creek to himself. Mini wagged her little bottom, but she stayed still, watching him the way she does when she’s curious. We sat by the grotto, and I thought about what Father said. I decided that my faith is a bit like this cave—it feels safe, cool, and solid, even when the world outside changes.
When we came back, Sister was waiting with what she’d promised—fresh strawberries from the garden and a jar of heavy cream from Kalona Dairy. We sat at the table and poured cream over the berries until they looked like little red boats in white water. I think maybe God gives us moments like that so our faith stays sweet as well as strong.
Evening Prayer
Dear Jesus,
Please help my faith grow deep like the roots of a strong tree.
Let it hold fast when storms come,
and let it bear fruit as sweet as strawberries in summer.
Amen.
Love,
Kathy
This morning at Mass, Father LeRoy’s homily was all about faith. He said faith is like planting a seed deep in the soil and trusting that God will make it grow, even when we can’t see what’s happening under the ground. He told us that sometimes storms will come, and the wind will bend the branches, but if our roots are deep in God, we won’t fall. I liked that picture in my mind—like one of the big oaks at the edge of the pasture.
After chores, Mini and I walked down to the cave, and sure enough, Shaggycoat was in the shallows near the bank, paddling around like he had the whole creek to himself. Mini wagged her little bottom, but she stayed still, watching him the way she does when she’s curious. We sat by the grotto, and I thought about what Father said. I decided that my faith is a bit like this cave—it feels safe, cool, and solid, even when the world outside changes.
When we came back, Sister was waiting with what she’d promised—fresh strawberries from the garden and a jar of heavy cream from Kalona Dairy. We sat at the table and poured cream over the berries until they looked like little red boats in white water. I think maybe God gives us moments like that so our faith stays sweet as well as strong.
Evening Prayer
Dear Jesus,
Please help my faith grow deep like the roots of a strong tree.
Let it hold fast when storms come,
and let it bear fruit as sweet as strawberries in summer.
Amen.
Love,
Kathy
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