possibilities of peetering along the currents of traveling, finding myself groping for hope among concrete trails...i am overwhelmed by the volume of clutter, singing among saints, and bewildered children. musing in tangles of sighs, laughter and embraces that span greetings and good-byes. deciphering all of this along edges of curses and blessings.

Wednesday, October 05, 2005

weathered

"Sin is something I am born with and cannot touch— only God touches sin through redemption." Oswald Chambers


deliverence comes in spots of sighs. i pray for these chains. i say God is has been so long...so long that i struggled with this...may you deliver me? he responds...these chains have been there for a long time...but they are weathered and rusted...my rain of holiness have made these chains so weak...now walk...into peace...for your salvation will bring freedom. i pull away...and the chains become rusted and blow into orange dust. Mercy. Grace. Power. Majest.

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