Psalm 131 and roses for Mother’s Day



This weekend I thought of Psalm 131: 2b:  ” . . . my soul is even as a weaned child.”  I still miss my mother and our wide-ranging and deep conversations.  She loved the city and I belong here in a small town.  I remember my intense grief and now it is over 10 years since her passing.

I continue to read the Psalms to find peace and for the beauty of language.

Each person’s journey is unique.

In loving memory of Enola M. Borgh (1917 – 2004).  We shall meet again.  Love still grows.

The roses are courtesy of