Loving what is

broken-daisy

 

Heavy rains last few days now glorious sun cycles. Tender baby daisies face down in puddles and mud. Gently lifted them out of the water, fragile stems snapped in my hands. Lesson in non-interference. When will I learn to love what is, and stop trying to change things? This divinely perfect universe doesn’t need my “help.”

Do I really think I can do it better than God?

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