The tender physician gently exposes the shrapnel. Years of leftover war wounds poking through, "They must come out."
"Will it hurt?"
Silence.
"What do I need to do?"
Silence.
The silence unsettles but draws me to the place, the shifting place....
The new place, that place where maybe just maybe the fragile place will be met by s t r e n g t h.
The scared place met by p e a c e.
The wounded place met with b a l m.
"How do I receive this Lord?"
"Tell me what to do?"
Silence.
Wait.
Watch.
Trust.
The moment, the quiet stirring within....
The subtle shift.....
When internal war moves into P E A C E.
The white flag soars, into the great silence we go....
1 comment:
Great seeing you at Keith and Lisa's reception. You do well enlarging your wardrobe at Mission Thrift. They have some good things.
I'm glad that in your blog you mentioned reaching peace!
Love,
Mum
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