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Amidst the loud and restless voices,
I still hear You —
Not pleading, not demanding,
But walking gently at my pace.
And in that quiet nearness,
Grace begins to look like something I can hold.
I wonder —
How many times have I chosen to walk alone,
Thinking I had to carry everything myself?
Yet there You were —
Steady, unshaken, never leaving.
And still, I pushed You away…
Not with words,
Not even with what I did,
But with a heart that wandered far from You.
So I ask now,
Even when I already know:
Are You still there?
I ask for a Word,
A sign, something certain —
But instead, You bring me here,
Into this place I do not fully understand.
And still,
When I grow tired, You catch me.
When I feel lost, You remain.
You love me —
Not loudly, but faithfully.
And this is grace.
This is You —
A love that does not force me to my knees,
But gently leads me home.