The Anchor Point

Tag: poetry

  • Is anybody out there? Is anybody listening?

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    by

    Deborah Seale
    in

    There is a specific kind of loneliness that belongs to the modern world—a crowded, noisy isolation. We are surrounded by sound, yet starved for connection. We can walk through packed city streets, sit in crowded pews, or scroll through a sea of online faces, yet feel totally alone. In those moments, our prayers can feel…

  • Paul Simon and the Edge of Humanity

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    by

    Deborah Seale
    in

    There are moments when the fabric of our everyday lives wears thin, and we catch a sudden, breathtaking glimpse of eternity. It might happen while listening to a classic song on the radio. Or it might happen in the quiet of your own home, when a simple, physical question from someone—“Did you feel the house…

  • When Love Rewrites Our Labels

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    by

    Deborah Seale
    in

    We are experts at building walls out of things that were meant to protect us. In the first century, a man named Matthew built a wall out of coins. As a Jewish tax collector working for the Roman Empire, he traded his community, his religious standing, and his family for financial security. The outside world…

  • Finding Peace When the World Is Out of Control

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    by

    Deborah Seale
    in

    We live in a world that operates at a breakneck, exhausting pace. Everywhere we look, things feel increasingly chaotic, loud, and mechanical. It’s incredibly easy to look at the state of humanity and feel a quiet, creeping panic. We grip our lives tighter, try to force outcomes, and exhaust ourselves trying to maintain a fragile…

  • His Unfailing Presence

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    by

    Deborah Seale
    in

    Another year I enterIts history unknown;Oh, how my feet would trembleTo tread its paths alone!But I have heard a whisper,I know I shall be blest;“My presence shall go with thee,And I will give thee rest.” What will the New Year bring me?I may not, must not know;Will it be love and rapture,Or loneliness and woe?Hush!…

  • Plain Old Oyster

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    by

    Deborah Seale
    in

    By Anonymous There once was an oyster, whose story I’ll tellWho found that some sand had gotten into his shellIt was only a grain, but it gave him great painFor oysters have feelings, although they are plain Now, did he berate the harsh workings of fateThat had brought him to such a deplorable state?“No,” he…