This weary earth we walk uponShe will endure when we are goneWhile kingdoms come and kingdoms goRivers run and rivers flow... Chorus:And if the river should ever run drySomewhere the rain will still fallWill still fall from the sky When I'm beguiled by the fearThat darker days are drawing nearMy darling, you seduce the sunRivers … Continue reading The River of our Soul
Author: afasinger
Singer, beekeeper, reader of nonfiction, writer, traveler, ordained minister and spiritual counselor
A letter to Mother Church
Friends, this came across my feed for the Daily Meditation from the Center for Action & Contemplation. I felt it important to share. I couldn't say it better....I'm entitling it "New Wineskins and Wine". They entitled it "People Change the Church". What speaks to you as you tend your soul in 2025? Tuesday, January 7, … Continue reading A letter to Mother Church
Winter Solstice, 2024
We come to the longest night of the year. The dark lengthens, the light shifts. I awaken resolved to spend it in solitude and silence. There are plenty of opportunities for celebrating with others. I have them all sketched in my calendar....sunrise tea ceremony, sweat lodge, prayer vigils, fire circles. Instead, after a "peopled" week, … Continue reading Winter Solstice, 2024
Nothing has changed. Everything has changed.
My friends, we are in a grace period. We have about 2 months until the ground will rapidly shift under our feet. Most days I find myself lamenting. The rush by most mainstream news media to get back to normal— their blow by blow reporting of the daily news— just doesn't do justice to the … Continue reading Nothing has changed. Everything has changed.
When the Unthinkable happens. Again.
In November 2016 I was part of a writing residency at Collegeville, MN. At an election watch party that night, I sat with colleagues in numb disbelief as the midnight hour rang in Donald Trump as the next president. I went to bed with a foreboding sense of the swirling chaos and disorder that would … Continue reading When the Unthinkable happens. Again.
Anita Amstutz 