3 min read

The Wind is tapping on my window, and I hurry out to greet it.

There it is – swinging through the treetops, whispering the forgotten tales from one tree to another, its hushed voice awakening the tree leaves.

What secret wisdom is the Wind ruminating on today?

2 min read

‘There is no sense of wrenching: it stands ready, holding up its little life, not knowing when or where or how the wind that blows where it wishes may carry it away. It holds itself no longer for its own keeping, only as something to be given: a breath does the rest, turning the "readiness to will" into the "performance." (2 Cor. 8. 11.)’