Guard The Covenant

Featured · A Guarded Heart

ElianaFolk wisdom, women's voice

For the reader whose hands still do the work while something inside has gone quiet, this refuses to read the numbness as a verdict and puts the inside back in the hands of the One who softens it.

Ezekiel 36:269 min

The Jar On The Back Shelf

Nothing To Put In The Box

The Far End Of The Field

The Standing Stone On The Boundary

The Kettle And The Lamp

The Name Of Every Rock In The Channel

The Word He Holds Back Now

What Holds The Boat While You Work

The Jar On The Back Shelf

The Chair That Stayed At The Table

The Song At The End Of The Night

The Two Who Held Up His Hands

The Thing Left In Your Keeping

The Second Set Of Footprints

The Smile That Arrives Before She Does

The Stream Under The Dry Bed

The Thing He Stopped Saying Out Loud

The House Key Under The Stone

The Question He Stopped Asking Her

The Song He Could Play Asleep

The Man At The Back Of The Room

The Tools In Her Fathers Box

The Stones They Set In The River

The Path She Cleared Every Autumn

The Olive Tree And The Dry Summer

The Window She Stopped Opening

The Songs She Knows Too Well

The Lamp Left On In The Hall

The Pot That Outgrew The Window

The Prayer She Could Say In Her Sleep

The Last Mile Is Not Yours To Carry

The Porch Light Across The Holler

The Vine They Never Pruned

The Chair He Carries Up The Stairs

The Letter She Was Asked To Hold

The Gate He Shuts Every Single Time

The Answer She Gives Without Listening

The Drawer That Would Not Shut

The Hour She Gives To Nobody

The Place She Walks Past Now

The Net Mended With The Same Knot

The Fence Line He Was Given

The Hand She Stopped Putting Out

The Two Who Walk The Same Lane

The Fence Post That Leans A Little

The List That Never Gets Shorter

The Lamp He Stopped Checking

The Water He Carries Up Every Morning

The Note That Had Gone Flat

Asking After Everybody's Mum

The Pot She Never Repotted

The Neighbour Who Brings The Bread

The Round Nobody Writes About

The Hill She Can Still Get Up

Somebody Put a Stone Under Him

The Lift She Gives Every Thursday

The Name He Stopped Saying

The Boat That Goes Out With Two

The Cup He Stopped Offering

The Voice She Was Handed

The Verse She Wants Read At The End

The Lamp That Hangs In The Doorway

The Line That Was Fraying Inside

The Table He Sets Without Looking

The Recipe In His Grandmothers Hand

The Cook Who Stopped Tasting

The Quilt That Was Not Finished Yet

The Bread That Nobody Praised

The Song They Will Sing Without Him

The Scroll Carried By Somebody Else

The Visits Nobody Counts

The Well He Never Went Back Down

The Long Road And The Lit Window

The Welcome That Comes Out Flat

The Recipe She Never Wrote Down

The Photograph At The End Of The Hall

The Shallow Bed And The Good Tomatoes

The Gate She Stopped Latching

The Woman Who Always Asks First

The Lamp He Trims Without Looking