George Buttrick, an imaginative preacher, wrote poignantly, "We die with half our
music in us." How sad, not that we die, but that we leave so much unsung, not having
exhausted our melody.
Marv and Nancy Hiles
The world is holy. We are holy. All life is holy. Daily prayers are delivered on the lips of breaking waves, the whisperings of grasses, the shimmering of leaves.