She stayed here and found me when no one around me could see through the shadows and shame, and called out my name. And she gave me the grace that could save me. A face that forgave me. A life to reclaim.
She said, “Love, I know you. So help me, I’ll show you the one you’ve forgotten’s the same, and I will not blame, but believe you, and I’ll never leave you. So don’t let it grieve you. Don’t try to explain.”
The eyes that I first came to prize under deep autumn skies, where forever burns bright, still sparkle with light from the soul that can make my heart whole with a love to console and a faith to regain.
So friend, if you’re falling, the voice that is calling you home to the person inside, is longing to guide and correct you, sustain and protect you, and those who will love you can see past your pain.
They’ll vow to believe you, though fate has deceived you and told you the lie that, from birth, your life’s had no worth, and they’ll see you; in sorrow, they’ll be you, when love comes to free you, and grace, to sustain.
This video features the words of this poem set to music:
Through the window, clouds draw dark the day. There, your silent spirit starts to pray wordless sighs to truthfully convey your desire for hope to light the way.
Once, you held a candle, burning bright, leading those who wandered in a night like the one where you, beset with fright, vowed to turn your troubled soul aright.
Now, you find it difficult to be all that life requires, endlessly; rest that you have sought so desperately, seems to slip away, elusively.
Then, among the shadows that enfold, someone with a hand that you can hold beckons you to bow, and be consoled by the One who’s loved you from of old.
Kindling by an incandescent flame from the candle of the one who came, you become emboldened to reclaim hope that is inherent in a name.
“How, my friend, did you have power to do something that will help to get me through?” “Only by the One who’s helped me, too. Jesus is the hope that burns in you.”
What will you bring to the beautiful river, placidly plotting its course to the sea, fountain of grace from the wells of the Giver, waters of mercy for you and for me?
Will you bring joy to the beautiful river, hearts that are brimming to see you again, fires of friendship that warm any weather, light from the places where love’s always been?
Will you bring tears to the beautiful river, falling from cisterns of sadness and shame, blessed by the One who redeems them together, then drops them gently, like sweet summer rain?
Will you bring you to the beautiful river, flawed and imperfect, yet loved, just the same, seeking the sabbath that flows from forever, for all the lost ones whom Love will reclaim?
Did you hear the muffled sound of a mushroom when it found in itself, no more desire to keep growing ever higher, but to softly set its head on the wooden forest bed where God planted it to be a companion for a tree?
Can you find the place within where the space is growing thin between Heaven and the ground, and the silence is the sound of a peace that can befall both the great ones, and the small who will lay themselves to rest in the forest of the blest?
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