Here,
A space of healing,
Drawing close to expose the tender wounds,
In the upper room,
That haven’t seen the light in years.
The Father gently comes near,
Drawing into sacred, quiet embrace,
A dance so soft,
Its melodies rising and falling in the pattern of a heartbeat.
Breathing life into corners of shame,
Reevaluating,
Retelling old stories.
Is this what hope is like?!
Thanks, Lord, for this gift.