break

two friends of mine had close family members pass on to eternity this year. i had the utmost privilege of spending time and having church with them in the midst of that. 

no, there wasn't a worship service, but it was church as it was always meant to be.

there were no fancy lights or sound systems. no bands. no friendly people to welcome you. no pulpit. no preacher. no agenda - at least, no other agenda, other than to mourn and to remember.

on one occasion, it was a living room lit with fluorescent tubes, an acoustic guitar, and voices.

on another occasion, it was three people having an honest conversation at a table.

but there were hearts. broken, confused, but childlike hearts. 

and it was real. it was authentic. it was honest.

it was all of our heart, mind, soul, and strength invested. it was grieving and crying with one another. it was supporting and encouraging and standing with ones who were shaky, when in actuality, they were the ones who were supporting, encouraging, standing with us. it was openly coming before the Lord with questions. it was Habakkuk 3:17-18.

it was hearts laid down before the worthy King.

and it left my heart heavy for the Church.

Jesus, You love Your Bride so much more than i would ever be able to love Her or love You, so would You put the love in Your heart in mine.

hidden

there's something oddly fascinating about the sound of waves crashing. it's huge and thundering, but at the same time it plays a quelling melody. roaring, yet peaceful. chaotic, yet tranquil. you get the gist.

it's so easy to miss. so easy. but if you just sat down and challenged the ocean to a staredown, it's possible to be teleported someplace else in the midst of all that noise.
 
maybe peace isn't the absence of chaos, but rather, the losing of oneself in the chaos.

what was it people said? that it's calmest in the eye of the storm?

maybe.

punctuation

we'll come back to this someday, i know we will.

we'll laugh, we'll cry, we'll reminisce.

maybe this is merely a brief pause in our dialogue; a comma, or an even longer semicolon.

or perhaps this is the full stop? the end of the line?

'til then.

picking at scabs creates scars

how do you pick up the threads of an old life? 

how do you go on when in your heart you begin to understand there is no going back?

that there are some things that time cannot mend. 

some hurts that go too deep.

— The Lord of the Rings: The Return of the King