Thoughts After a Conversation About Boarded-up Churches
I know it seems like we're losing,
But . . .
Step beyond what's broken.
Notice what you missed at first glance.
Listen in the spaces between your breaths.
Yes.
Rubble clutters.
Darkness blurs.
Silence deafens.
But know this:
The carpenter is at work,
Diligent, unruffled,
In the back room of the basement.
The pilot light is burning,
Pale, perhaps, but impossible to smother.
And the stones themselves,
Though ringing now with stillness,
Will rise up with a voice.
ERMSocha 7-17-14
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