In My Own Little Corner

In the Rodgers and Hammerstein musical Cinderella, there is a song “In My Own Little Corner”. Cinderella goes there to escape from her struggles and strife. Life for her is not easy and in her refuge, she finds hope and inspiration. Freedom perhaps to become that for which she was created.

            I also have a place I go early in the morning. My own chair in my home. Turning on the lamp, creating a small space within the greater darkness. A glow of light in which I am surrounded, sheltered.  Able to find hope and inspiration as well by picking up the book. So many words being spoken to me. Today I hear, “I have called you by name, you are mine.” Isaiah 43:1

            Through faith and trust in absolute goodness, I imagine myself running. So happy I raise my arms as I approach Him. He calls out, “Arise, my darling; My beautiful one, come away with me!” Song of Songs 2:10.  He carries me into goodness so bright “the light becomes night around me.” Psalm 139:11. Blinded, I am just held in the strength of a healing and loving embrace. A life-giving force flows through my being; permeates every cell.

            Looks of worship from human princes and dancing at balls in glass slippers doesn’t even compare. Though I have no words for the Kingdom of God it is grander than we are capable of knowing with our senses. It is here, with us, in us. A realm hidden; the ruler of which will welcome you as the beautiful gracious Princess you are. Knowing you are loved and treasured gives one so much confidence, facing this world is a bit easier.

            My refuge, your refuge, exists. Always with you in your “own little corner, in [your] own little chair.” You just have to stop, open your heart, call out and soar. Fly away into the arms of freedom!

My Dove, My Beautiful One                     
By James Joyce
My dove, my beautiful one, 
Arise, arise! 
The night-dew lies 
Upon my lips and eyes. 

The odorous winds are weaving 
A music of sighs: 
Arise, arise, 
My dove, my beautiful one! 


I wait by the cedar tree, 
My sister, my love, 
White breast of the dove, 
My breast shall be your bed. 

The pale dew lies 
Like a veil on my head. 
My fair one, my fair dove, 
Arise, arise!

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