Brokenness Aside

This Sunday the dusk comes cloudy.  I'm listening to All Sons & Daughters' album "Brokenness Aside" through a Youtube playlist.  The cello undertones give their music just the right cloak of warm melancholy.

I am wistful for a lot of things this afternoon.  The lives of the Sandy Hook teachers & children that are lost.  The slow waning of meaningfulness in the work place.  The struggles of the young inconsistent hearts in youth ministry.  

And while I sit here on my desk preparing to go to the 3rd Advent mass this season I fall silent to to the words of Angie Smith.  

And when the sun burns my eyes and the wind whips me into a place of doubt, I have committed to return to a place of worship.  A place where it is too dark to see anything but Him.  A place too quiet to hear anything other than the sound of my own praise.

"Nevertheless I will look again towards Your holy temple, Lord."

And like the bird that can only learn to sing in the dark, I will follow the sound of my Master, urging me to walk in faith and trust, regardless of what the world is doing around me.

And there, in the land of promise, I will rest my weary bones and cease to fear His hand on me.  I will believe in spite of the vine that I cannot control.  Because I turst the Maker who told me I was worth more than a sparrow.  Because He loved me enough to rescue me when I thought I would never see the light of day again.  Because His ways, you know--they aren't ours.  {What Women Fear: Walking in Faith that Tranforms}


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