walls crack, waves wash, love lives

I think we’re scared to reach for goodness and truth-we’re scared that truth will roll in like tsunamis, ready to purge distraction to see what’s left. We’re scared of what’s left. That maybe what’s left isn’t enough, like I’m not enough. And God says no, this is goodness and truth. What’s left is the space that separates you from Me, come. Waves roll, wash me to Him, heart resuscitated beating with peace. This story, your story? He knows the end and it’s good.