I often wonder...

of the strange mysterious portals of redemption. I find fascinating the deep comfort of the healing wings of Christ. I weep for the loss of innocence in my children. I am amazed by their wounds so similar to mine. I realize that many scars are hereditary, relentless. I am at the mercy of a God I have never seen and yet I still seek his presence in silent moments when all the world seems transfixed by the ether of amusement and clamor. I am walking daily under a glass darkly. I am afraid of the power I have, when I look at the stumbling nature of the journey. I fall and rise. I am human and I am leaning on the One a shoulder I have felt in the darkness of mysterious consequence. Faith seems cruel when I struggle and it will always be the cure to my brokenness and shattered will.