The darkness does not knock— it seeps, and it stains.
It craws through your marrow and threads through your veins.
Not a wound to touch, nor a scar to trace.
Just a hollowing force that tried your life and stole your grace.

I hear neighbors laugh, then it twists into your cries.
I know your grief presses heavy— cold and unkind.
I’m helpless in flesh as I draft, for you, my prayers.
Oh Lord— how I would bear your sorrow and spare you these labors.

There are worlds beneath rock bottom.
Abysses where breath still heaves.
Where hearts beat in the echoes of God.
Where silence hums and darkness weaves.

Not every moment, will you subdue in good fashion.
Some will fortify your wisdom and challenge His passion.
The Lord grips your future in storm ridden lands.
So, keep walking with Jesus as he holds you with both hands.

Weep through the loss and scream through the fracture.
Cling to your God, through the thin and the thinner.
Lean into the arms of your siblings as we gather.
Your Lord-awing sisters and God-fearing brothers.

He will build you from ruins after the tempests arrive.
Dousing the flames and defying demise.
He breaks the floods that seek to sever.
Chin up, my dear, the Lord builds what lasts forever.



Saturday 23 February 2025