March 16

The Sunlit Choice

My friend, a whisper in the quiet air, A novel thought, a spark within my soul, “Why not create your God? With tender care, Choose your own path, let icy doubts unroll.”

The mountain of the mind, its peaks so high, Intellectual frostbite held me tight, Yet in that moment, sunlight brushed the sky, And shadows fled, revealing truth’s pure light.

To choose a God, a canvas blank and wide, A palette rich with hues of faith and grace, No dogma bound, no rigid walls to hide, Just willingness—a simple, sacred space.

So, I stepped forth, my heart a willing wing, Belief unfurling, like the breath of spring.

                                                                                                                   Anonymous


March 17

The Mysterious Weaver

In seasons draped with sorrow’s heavy shroud, When God’s hand pressed upon my fragile heart, I questioned why, injustice screamed aloud, Yet in that crucible, new wisdom’s art.

From grief’s dark loom, threads of courage spun, Uncovered treasures buried deep within, Lessons etched in pain, their work begun, A tapestry of grace, where hope would win.

And as the weaver wove, His fingers deft, In patterns intricate, unseen by eye, The threads of suffering, the tears I wept, Became the warp and weft of purpose high.

So trust, my soul, though mysteries may sway, God’s wonders bloom in shadows’ hidden play.                    

                                                                                                                    Anonymous                                              

March 18

Whispers of Trust

I start with a whisper, small and meek, A willingness to trust, a fragile seed, In God’s vast garden, where the shadows speak, And faith takes root, where doubts recede.

He tends my heart, this Gardener unseen, Causing that willingness to stretch and bloom, Each petal unfurling, a trust serene, A dance of grace in life’s uncertain room.

The more I yield, the deeper roots entwine, Trust begets willingness, a sacred dance, My dependence shifts, no longer mine, For God provides, in every circumstance.

And so, I lean upon this Higher Name, In interdependence, I find my flame.

                                                                                                                                 Anonymous


March 19

Sighs to the Unknown

In agnostic shadows, I once stood, unsure, A seeker lost in cosmic vastness wide, My prayers, like fragile whispers, insecure, Yet yearning for a glimpse of grace inside.

How foolish felt those silent, pleading pleas, Addressed to nameless forces, unseen skies, For who would heed a skeptic on their knees, When doubt and disbelief clouded my eyes?

But then, a subtle shift—a quiet flame, A Higher Power’s touch upon my soul, In daily prayer, I found a sacred aim, A bridge to peace, where broken pieces whole.

So, still I pray, uncertain of the ear, Yet knowing this: my whispers find their sphere.

                                                                                                                                                       Anonymous

March 20

Forgiveness Unbound

In shadows’ quiet, where the heart contends, I learn the art of grace, forgiveness wide. Not just in words, but where compassion bends, I free my soul from chains that once denied.

The great spiritual guides, their voices clear, Implore: “Forgive, release the heavy load.” For in forgiveness, healing draws near, And wounds transform to pathways yet untrod.

Not for their sake—the ones who caused the pain, But for my own salvation, I unbind. Resentment, like a rusted anchor’s chain, Keeps me from soaring, leaves my spirit blind.

So let me sever ties to ancient strife, And find in pardon, freedom for my life.

                                                                                                                           Anonymous

March 21

Material and Spiritual Well-Being

In shadows cast by economic woes, Fear wraps its icy tendrils 'round our hearts, A phantom specter, haunting as it grows, Whispering dread, tearing our dreams apart.

Yet wisdom blooms from ancient pages writ, The Big Book’s truth, a beacon in the night, “For us,” it says, “spiritual progress lit, Precedes material wealth, a sacred light.”

So let us seek the riches of the soul, Not measured in mere coins or lands possessed, But found in kindness shared, in hearts made whole, In selfless acts, where love and grace invest.

For when we serve, our purpose is revealed, In giving, not in grasping, we are healed. ????

May your journey be one of balance and fulfillment, where both material and spiritual well-being intertwine harmoniously. 

                                                                                                                           Anonymous

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