[Weekend Note: Liz Wessel has experienced a temporary family health emergency. Her posts will resume next weekend. I know she will be grateful for your prayers] 
Midday the sky paints the ocean silver. It looks permanent. It is no more enduring than the creatures that swim beneath until their solitary ending. "For the dying of a particular being," Czeslaw Milosz writes, "is its own private business…"
We are falling through time with our life on the line. Where is life's solace? We can celebrate what we have rather than rue what we do not.
Joy is grounded in love. There is no victory without it & love's candor is a hard master.
Speaking, receiving & living the full truth demands profound courage. I wish I had that level of valor. Instead, I only ask love to enable passion & to teach wisdom to pass along.
Behold the truth tellers! They know truth matters more than life's liquid time piece so they speak it & take the consequences. I admire them more than I can say, write, preach or live. They are the heroes. They provoke and embarrass us into life. They are the ones to whom we owe a gratitude we don't even know how to express.
The same is true of America’s finest caregivers. They live love against constant challenges not to. They meet the needs of others when they are themselves exhausted. They come to help us when we are most desperate for help. That is why their leaders must support them with love.
It is such a difficult job. It is such a fine way to fall through time.
-Erie Chapman
Photograph: "Silver Sea 2" by Erie
Journal of Sacred Work 
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