laid bare before the Lord.
heavy burdens, heavy hearted.
i wait upon my Father who will defend, redeem, restore.
not for my sake, for who am i.
face in the dust, i cry out for mercy and grace,
undeserving [of Him].
unrelenting [for Him].
for the glory and honor of all that He is, He will come.
on chariots of fire and with swords outstretched, He will come.
with the tenderness of a Father’s breath kissing his child’s forehead, He will come.
and i will hide in the refuge of his towering shadow.
i am poured out as a candle melted down, burned out; but He has laid hold of me, and so i rise once more.
his flame is never quenched.
justice shall yet appear with truth in her pocket.
about the writer.
“Words are only postage stamps delivering the object for you to unwrap” (George Bernard Shaw)