Morning rises toward high noon just as our spirits gaze toward your radiant refuge. We remember the days of trial, not so long ago, among the shadows and valleys of wilderness wandering and wondering if we were forever forsaken, outcast, left behind. And just then, as the sun breaks over the sullen earth, the lark sings into us the hymns of old. You live close to the brokenhearted. You save those crushed in spirit. In this dawning glow, the glass is clear: we are made in your image. We can never be banished, for there is no place beyond your home.
Blessed be, Amen