i never told you, but i stood outside of the church and cried the sound of my heart. the green leaves wept close to the ground, and the pavement was bright white. he drove past in his red truck, and the brave girl was one of the only ones left.
heart to heart.
love slipped out of my hands, and i was bearing the weight of a heavy Sorrow. because i was sorry. and i was lonely. and i really didn't want to go back home, because i was scared.
he stood there. still there. and he was only a little boy, and my brother, with an aching heart and a Sorrow beating the same as mine. though our stories are different. the aches are different. he is different. i am different. but isn't that the way it goes? different, but the same.
the echo buried itself still in the tree rings of the pines standing out front.
desperation burns up my heart, and all i can do is fall to my knees. because these words cannot proclaim the Glory of which i yearn to tell. this voice cannot find the perfect Harmony in which i ache to sing. this hands cannot create the Perfection for which they long for. and all i want to do is praise my Savior, but oh these limbs.
this heart. i'm all caught up in myself. and i know it. and i ache and ache to be cut free of the flesh that searches my veins for an atom of strength.
yet,
even still,
hope binds with the desperation, and i am caught up in a storm of change He is working in me. for though the song may not be perfect, the sound of it fills His heart with love upon love and it overflows. even still.
i felt it in the girl who stayed by my side. all humbleness and love, beaming the thing He knew i needed the most.
hold on. just a little bit longer.
/x
