Friday, September 15, 2023


Oh the deliciousness of a Satruday morning lie in
the light weight of summer bedding
the heaviness of the dog snuggled by my side
the way the after dawn light
fills the room
and welcomes me gently to a new day

I relax into the decadence of a morning
not ruled by an agenda or a to list
allowing me the time and space
to breathe freely
and melt into the softness of the sheets
I sigh in gratitude

these occasional mornings are delightful
rest for a weary mind and soul
time apart from reality
this, I think, must be an earthly glimpse
of the vast heavenly kingdom
awaiting us all

Dawn M. Switzer
July 2023

Friday, June 16, 2023

God the Strength of My Heart

 Oh Lord, 
it feels as if I spend my days looking at my inadequacies;
the gap between 
where I am and where You made me to be
is so vast that I cannot see the way through
the dark and the deep.
I am frozen in my humanity.
Then I remember, 
You are my strength and song.
You call to me.
You show me the way.
You give me the stepping stones, 
one by one, 
to the end of my days.

A reflection on Joyce Rupp's "Fragments of Your Ancient Name" - August 6

Monday, March 6, 2023

little pieces

a reflection on Matthew 7:3

little pieces of dust
big pieces of wood
dust to dust, ashes to ashes
we all live with the dust and the wood

which do I pay attention to?
which do I focus on first?
the wood in my own eye
my flaws, my sin
is invisible until I purposefully stop to examine,
to assess, and then
to ask forgiveness
“The unexamined life is not worth living”
but taking stock, really looking
is hard
so much easier on the ego to point out
look at the dust you are carrying
yet where does that get any of us?

I can only look at life through my
own lens
of experience, not yours
mind your own beeswax – perhaps
but rather than withdrawing or judging
what if I seek to understand –
listen, ask questions, open space
for your story to be told
we all have a story that needs to be told
and, just maybe, when we tell our stories
stories with chapters of dust
and chapters of wood
we will see each other clearly
whole, human, children of God