In this world where suffering and joy are next door neighbors, won’t someone please sing out a bit of Glory.
Make it a song that comes out real quiet and gentle,
like rain on tender grass,
like gentle showers on young plants.
So hope grows.
In this world where suffering and joy are next door neighbors, won’t someone please sing out a bit of Glory.
Make it a song that comes out real quiet and gentle,
like rain on tender grass,
like gentle showers on young plants.
So hope grows.
The day I’ve looked forward to for a long, long time is less than a week away!
Nope, not my wedding day! I ran head-on, heart-racing into the frothy waves of marital bliss years ago. That exhilarating toss of peace and excitement that swirled through me on a perfect California summer day is back and leap-frogging through me once again!
At times, she walked deep in thought. It appeared she was caught up in a world far away. Often it seemed to weigh heavily upon her; other times she seemed wild-eyed and looked as if she was enthralled with an alternate universe–perhaps, flying through the outer reaches of the cosmos, watching the meteor showers falling all around her. I wished I could see those things inside her head.