Sunday, July 23, 2017


After Isaiah 33

In the bottom of the hole,
bathed in darkness, then
I feel the hand extended,
thrust down through gloom
and mud, grabbing hold
of me and yanking me
upward through mud and dirt,
pulling me, covered
in filth, pulling me gasping
into the light.

In the midst of brokenness,
in the thick of destruction
and annihilation, left
with no alternatives, options
gone, strategy destroyed,
tactics trashed, nothing left
in my hands, nothing left
to give, then comes
the blessing.

Photograph by Linnaea Mallette via Public Domain Pictures. Used with permission.