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Lately I’ve been thinking about the trials of life, the situations we so often find ourselves in which require a response: run away or face into the pain. Looking back over the course of my life, I can see many points at which I’ve tucked my tail between my legs and found some secret hideaway. I’m slowly learning that, however thick the darkness is that surrounds us, God promises His presence as we stare into the black, and continually redeems us as we posture ourselves, empty-handed, before His love.
Clouds gather,
Breathing words to wind
Their taunts ride as I stare
Into the storm
And clutch my heart to slow its pace
There are shallow ditches
And faded leaning structures
That beacon me onto shifting sand
But I’m older now
With scars and lines atop dusty canvas
With feet bound tight to bedrock
And I don’t blink anymore
Brevity, tears and wild skies
Are better known than scattered by
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