Primitive religion is not believed, it is danced!

Arthur Darby Nock

Earth's crammed with heaven,
And every common bush afire with God;
And only he who sees takes off his shoes;
The rest sit round it and pluck blackberries.

Elizabeth Browning

Friday, August 9, 2013

Into God's Hands

Sometimes Lord
it all seems like too much
we run across people
so damaged
so beaten and battered by life
their minds are twisted
with self hate
they are afflicted 
with the demons
of addiction
and self hatred
they are assailed by their pasts
they are the walking dead
they come to us with outstretched hand
burning eyes
They come bowed by heavy loads
 bent over by resentment and hate
suffering and sin… 
They drag the world behind them 
they hurt us Lord
they are too hungry 
consume us
we want to love them
heal them
rescue them
but they are beyond us
we place these people in your hands
hold them in your arms
wrap yourself around them
as a loving mother
hold them
do not let them go
until they are
and secure
in your love
and ready to try again
ready to
we cannot fix them
we cannot

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