I don't think it's hyperbole to say that "All torturing questions find / Answer beneath those old grey olive trees." The answers that linger there with Jesus in Gethsemane may not be exactly what you would have hoped for, but they are the answers you need.
We recognize and lament the cuts we've all taken to the bone and the excruciating pain that has cracked us through to the very core.... And we take a deep breath, lift our eyes up and away from the grief that clings to us like mud on shoes, and we understand that, in fact, we have a much bigger problem.
I followed them, the restless, jeering lot, Down dusty, well-worn paths outside our town. Not even clamoring taunts and wails could drown The anguished cries of whip-flailed flesh now shot Clean through with nails. Him? Him whom I had sought For so long, pining for his peace? His crown Did not resemble one due him, … Continue reading Into Death Like His
From desert heat they perish, parched and glum.Bare, blinded, and abused they wander longTo quench their thirst; if only they could numbThe sweltering pain and find their long-sought song. In utter darkness desperate children gropeFor something they can’t even name or dream.Eternity inside demands they hope;In whom or what, though, yet remains unseen. Through blinding … Continue reading To Glory