slowing and sunday scones

The flour is being measured and the oven preheated.  It’s a slow, Sunday morning, well before church and in that space, my heart gets quiet enough for me to hear the unrest. I don’t know about you, but if I’m paying attention I find myself letting hurry crowd out the fun, even when there is no deadline or clock to manage. Let me say that again, even when there is no deadline or clock to manage, I still feel the rush. Like a heart still beating fast after the running is over. Continue reading