I have to say, lately going to church has felt like more of a duty than anything - because I work for them the lines seemed to get blurred on a Sunday and sometimes it feels like 'just another day in the office'. But I did drag myself out of bed this Sunday, and I was really glad that I did. To me it seemed like it was what a church service should be... honest, real, with lots of people sharing their thoughts/hopes/joys/struggles/prayers; being thankful for many blessings yet admitting that things aren't all perfect and easy, but encouraging each other to keep on keeping on... because in the midst of trouble and uncertainty, we remember together what the God we follow is like, and remember that He's bigger than all the the things we're going through, and that He loves us, and doesn't let go.
During the meeting, one lady sang a song she'd written, which was so honest and beautiful. It was about hope and struggle and gratitude and walking the line between light and dark, life and death...
It reminded me of something I've written recently about hope. I wrote it for Wordlive, and it'll be published on their website in May this year:
During the meeting, one lady sang a song she'd written, which was so honest and beautiful. It was about hope and struggle and gratitude and walking the line between light and dark, life and death...
It reminded me of something I've written recently about hope. I wrote it for Wordlive, and it'll be published on their website in May this year:
Sunlight creeping in through a crack in the wall
Birdsong spilling into prison cell
Lights of home on the horizon
The rock clung to so as not to be washed away
Anchor for souls
The hand that holds the kite string, keeping it from being
blown into obscurity
Unseen certainty
Fixed point in motion
Whispered promise
A spark in the depths
The belief that tomorrow might be different
That now is not forever
But that today could affect eternity
Our necessary companion in the darkness
Making valid the phrase ‘not yet’ – because one day
One day
Rescue will come
So we clench our fists
And grit our teeth
And set our eyes ahead
And keep on
And keep on
And keep on
Because of the gift that we chose to grab hold of
And never let go
Guarding it carefully inside our ribcage
Where it weighs heavy like precious metal
Yet flutters fragile like a bird
Keeping us breathing
Sustaining life
Whilst slowly breaking us down
Until
Hope
Is all
That remains
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