it's been a tattering last couple of days,
as I try to piece together
this:
I'm trying to reconcile
standing, hearing the bloodiest shriek -
eyes rolling - not inhuman, but depraved.
I'm wondering, 'what in God's name am I doing here?'
how does an anxious, rumpled, twenty-something
find herself called
Here. With purpose.
Suffering tries to steal it.
worry grinds in deep, haunting memory.
Death, in all its suffocating power aims for precedence.
this threatens to take us all.
I've never seen it so grave.
So clear, and true, and bright the choice.
Even here, in the sobs of not understanding,
He is. Thank God! He is Who He is.
I'm wondering, 'what in God's name am I doing here?'
how does an anxious, rumpled, twenty-something
find herself called
Here. With purpose.
Suffering tries to steal it.
worry grinds in deep, haunting memory.
Death, in all its suffocating power aims for precedence.
this threatens to take us all.
I've never seen it so grave.
So clear, and true, and bright the choice.
Even here, in the sobs of not understanding,
He is. Thank God! He is Who He is.
More than black, white and tangible page,
that burn and blot and tear
blood and body, Words from Holy lips
resounding - hounding for dear ones
to come to Life
for His Name's sake.