My husband is a fantastic listener. He listens to my heart, not just my words. He listens to my feelings, as well as my thoughts. And it gets even better than that; I trust him with everything I have and am.
he is for those betrayed by love and deserted by joy, for those enshrouded by darkness and stricken by pain. he is for those imprisoned by hopelessness and cast deep into despair, for those robbed of dignity and worth, for those crushed and broken and forgotten…
so that they too might sing and soar and know that they have not lived and suffered in vain,
so that they may know that there is beautiful purpose and joy in the midst of the dismal destitution of the soul and mind.
My husband, Taylor, is in the midst of his studies at Western Seminary in Portland and I have grown accustom to seeing his brow furrowed at his iPad as he plows through his many reading assignments.
I love watching him as he sits deep in his studies and thoughts.
i have looked at a lot of people,
but have only seen a small handful of them.
God, open my eyes.
seconds click deliberately towards minutes
and minutes roll swiftly into the cumulative past.
pink to gold & gold to blue
it is six-eighteen
and i nearly missed the sweetest nuance of this dawn;
the subtlety of your slumber.
yes, therein your stirring and stillness,
i find my morning calm.