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Warrior’s Light (Book I)

Clash of Worlds (Book II)

If the Soul is a Horse, what are you?

Free or wild?

Well, for these questions, someone I know likes to use parables…so I’m going to emulate Him on this one. ;)

God is the only One Who can tame the soul without breaking it. Like a wild one, the soul gallops the world through and through – restless, it races the wind. Restless, so it runs, wild and free . . . or so it believes.

The “wild” part is true, but the “free?” Well, freedom is even pricey by the letter these days. And, freedom is not the circumstance in which our horse finds itself.

Borne upon the wind, “wild” is the horse’s blood, veins, hoofs and heart – it knows no other way. And, being born wild, thinking it’s free, the illusion makes grandeur out of pastures and fields possessing bald spots and mire.

But, “wild” is not “free,” but simply “wild.” When racing the wind is all that’s left for the stallion, where is freedom then? In the tiny gusts that move it to whimper? Can you hear the peace that comes with its sense of ”free?” There is no peace where the gallops tie themselves together, ever tighter with chords and discords together strung until they burst from the same trend – wild. All the same – the noise, the sound, the ground’s taut stomach sheared by the scooping hoofs that roam for want of new green grass. Listen – wild horses . . . wild horses . . . wild horses . . . wild horses. Never ending.

Only one, though, is yours. A sole one has a chance. Between wild and free? Hmm . . . maybe. But then again, freedom is not cheap. And then again, we’re not speaking of horses.

Even so, there is One Who knows the way of the free – its heights, its feathery freedom ways, its winds, and how to soar above them and on those tender streams. There is One Who knows that way of freedom, to soar by it, and how its wild grows tame. And, this tame is a different word than “bridled,” because this tame comes as meekness. The One Who knows that feathered way is bravely obedient, even when the winds of the way call him off to distant places. Not fighting against the high streams, the eagle is the one who soars because he’s looking for the way to lay his feathers on.

This eagle, being so wonderfully wild is still so – ever still – tamed . . . and wild . . . yet free. And, how can such things be?

You might say the eagle, being quite like a horse back then, looked at the scape of the sky and saw something new, he said, “What a thing is this? I’ve only been looking at this green ground all my life. But, now I see another color! How I’ve been missing it – this big blue sky.” And, he gave up his running legs to fly.

There, in that noble steed, birthed a seed of desire – to be free, to fly, to dream wings off a sky-lit whim and fancy its reality. And, the eagle grew feathers for flying. To accommodate them took some time, but I assure you, it’s worth all the fault in the feathers, which are just as wild . . . and still as free.

Thinking too much and naming names

“There I go again…Thinking.”

“Don’t do that! It’s a dangerous pastime!”

“But, can’t it also be insightful?”

“Yes. Yes it can be. But only when used while not operating on assumptions. Take daily as directed…don’t operate heavy machinery until you know how it affects you.”

“But…what about what ifs?”

“No…nope the what ifs are side effects…be careful with those…and consult your Doctor.”

“Doctor . . .”

“Who’s Name happens to be the counterpart of ‘I think, therefore’ . . .”

“I Am. Whose Name is–? Oh.”

“God’s got a lot of awesome Names.”

“Like Elishama or something . . .”

“Yeeeah, umm . . . I’m pretty sure that’s not one of His Names, but I mean, you can ask Him about it. A lot of people in the Old Testament tagged Him with Names like, El-Roi, the God Who sees, and stuff like that.”

“El-Roi. Sounds like a car.”

-_-

“Anyway, His other Names . . .

God, Mighty Creator – Elohim

God Almighty – El Shaddai

The Everlasting/Eternal God – El Olam

The Lord will Provide – Yahweh Yireh

Lord, Master – Adonai

The Lord Who Heals – Yahweh Rophe

The Lord my Banner – Yahweh Nisse

Consuming Fire – Esh Oklah

The Lord is Peace – Yahweh Shalom

The Lord of Hosts – Yahweh Tsebaoth (armies)

The Lord my Rock – Yahweh Tsuri

The Lord is my Shepherd – Yahweh Roi

The Name – Hashem

King – Melek

Living God – El Chay

Dwelling Place, Refuge, Shield, Fortress, Strong Tower – Maon, Machseh, Magen, Metsuda, Migdal-Oz

Judge – Shophet

The Lord our Righteousness – Yahweh Tsidqenu

God Most High – El Elyon

The Lord is there – Yahweh Shammah

Father – Ab, Abba, Pater

“God’s a lot more than we think He is.”

“No kidding.”

Name list taken from Praying the Names of God by Ann Spangler

Code Blue with Red Balloons

I stood there looking at that big blue for a little while, holding a red balloon.

This balloon was different than the other ones—it was huge, and it was inflated.

I used to throw half-deflated balloons up in the air, and they came back down. Fascinated with the opposition to its flight, I kept jumping up to throw one of these balloons farther up into that spacious sky. Lacking the dexterity of the big kids, I made up for it in enthusiasm, but the deflated balloon always came back down.

A little apprehensive as to the flying character of this different and inflated red balloon, I held it tight between uncertain fingers.

You’ve heard it said that for every action, there is an equal and opposite reaction.

I didn’t know it then, but gravity’s a self-evident force in this equation.

I thought God was one of these forces—a cool kid on the block of the universe—big and not something tangible. I have no idea. God, do I know you? Everyone has something to hold onto. But, I don’t want to be like you. I mean, I sing about it, but I want to be my own person. That was when I was eight years old and a deep thinker—five years after I figured out Santa was mom and dad, where the life I lived was bubbles, trundling around like an eight year old does, and strawberry ice cream.

You’ve heard it said that needles don’t hurt, and it only takes a second.

They lied.

It took about 30 minutes to get the needle in, and it’s still burning. The ceiling’s pretty white still, and I want to leave and go back to high school. The rain outside hurts my head; somehow, its noise dashes against my head instead of the roof.

The blurry in my eyes won’t leave, and I can’t help thinking about that one time with the balloon when I was little. There’s something bright red over my head, but I can’t quite—

“Honey, stay with me now,” she says.

“I—I’m sorry, I—” my lips don’t move anymore.

My mind flashes back to pictures of my brother.

—

Benjamin used to play a game on the Fourth of July with me.

He would say, “Now, don’t move. Keep watching. I’m gonna throw it down and make it explode. You believe me?”

I thought he made them magic, but it wasn’t until I was seven that I realized they were just poppers.

Ben could just look at me with his nostrils flared, and my station as little sister was the best thing there ever was. I used to pull him around the house when I was four, his pinky finger in tow. He cried when his real mom took him away for Christmas. I didn’t see him again until summer, and when he called Mom, “Stacey,” I figured out how compassion can run through a body without bleeding out. I found out how cold people can be to others. He was my half brother, and he stopped talking to me then.

—

“Tee, get an anticoagulant, stat! Temperature rising. Blood pressure down—”

“Taylor . . . Taylor? She’s—” that distant voice keeps breaking my confusion.

—

I’m going to be okay. I can keep going. It’s been like this for a year now. It’s not like I’m going to—my head dropped, everything outside spun, and my spine felt like crumbling as if someone had made a game of Jenga out of it. It all went black and white, and then the blue of the sky was the first thing I saw when the referee called a time out.

“Hey, Ref,” I blew stiff air from my nose as I tried to sit up. None of my muscles gave any rights of passage to this idea called “sitting up,” so I tried to will them up out of spite for their lack of attention. The world went hazy then, much less than it did—

—

Now.

Breathe . . . in . . . out. IT SHOULD BE SO EASY! There’s a thousand pounds on my chest, and it won’t move. Trying to siphon solid, hot lead through three small holes is what I’m dealing with here.

Oh gosh. Is that the doctor? He looks like a morphed, white . . . something . . . something white . . .

 —

I thought it was cool.

He had no idea I was watching him paint now.

“Ben, what do you think?” I asked.

His dirty blond hair flipped out of his eyes when he looked up to see my drawing.

“No, Tay. Look,” he gently took the sketchpad from my hands, which were caked from the bleeding, black ink. He started drawing a figure of himself. “You make your marks like this,” his first words to me in months.

That’s when he taught me the “right way” to draw. I always thought I was right; he proved me wrong. But, I didn’t mind.

“Thanks, Benny Boy, what’s next?” I looked up, intrigued at my big brother’s stare.

He smiled.

“Nothing, Squirt. Get some rest,” his hand—as covered in pencil as mine was in ink—ruffled its way through my brown hair. He left the room.

I stared at the drawing, biting my lip. Something was still missing as my half brother left the picture of my blue room.

—

“—code! What’s the status?”

“The yellow one.”

“Reapply more saline . . . Taylor?”

“Get the IV ready.”

“Hey . . . cah . . .” How do you yell help in this place? Okay, breathing isn’t working. Black specks . . . every . . . in people’s . . . faces. Black. Why is it so white over there . . . and blue . . . The bed . . . hovers. Where are the feelings . . . in my fingers . . . so heated . . . thump . . . thump . . . . . . . . . Where’s the sound? . . . . . . . thump . . . th—beeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee—

—

“God, do I believe in You?”

“Well, you’re talking to me, aren’t you?”

“Yeah, good point.”

I was nine then. And, you wouldn’t believe me if I told you what I believed, so from here on, you can accept it as an author selling you a story if you like.

I always believed the soul could feel more than the body. And, I was right. After I believed God, after I believed in His grace, after I believed in the resurrection of Christ, I slid into a commotional life. You may think I misspelled. Sound it out with me—commotional.

I was nine, and I had just received my first kicks of real adrenaline by flying down Squirrel Hill on one wheel of a bike. So, I wanted an adventure for a life. Don’t we all?—like in the movies where the hero learns his exceptional quality and strives for the climactic finish where the world revolves around him and everything’s flawless . . . textbook. But, a stage is only lit by cosmetics that make up artificial faces, cameras that turn off, and lights that burn out before the curtain folds in on itself. That’s the funny thing about life:

You’ve heard it said that all life’s a stage.

They’re right . . . in a sense. All life’s a stage, a level—this temporary stay amidst confusion. And, if you like—a challenge. My life cost me everything—it cost me death. It cost me health; it cost me happiness; it cost me what everyday people would call normalcy. I lost it. Even my pulse went mute on the monitors. Even my heart stopped registering readable beats after it dropped its pressure to 44/18. I even saw what you and I on a daily basis cannot view because of the stubbornness of our minds that hang on to the feelings and materials that make up our viewfinders—it’s like we’re only cameras, seeing through corporeality alone, and that’s our snapshot of a life.

—

“Ben, what do you believe?”

“Don’t worry about it,” he pushed his way past and into his room.

I stood there, a little older and hopelessly trying to figure out the world, like a child ripping open a package on her birthday. But, as I attempted to slow down this spinning globe, I realized that the world never stood still enough for wrapping paper to cover it.

“Tay, I told you—I don’t want to talk about it. I don’t believe the way you do,” he remarked with a laugh. His stubborn tone fell to the ground between us.

I wanted to say something, but the door had already closed. And, I was left mute.

I had just been diagnosed with this debilitating, what the doctors call, “I have no idea what we’re dealing with,” illness. We were both a little upset at things.

Not ten minutes afterward, I passed out from a bout with this sickness, but upon waking, he started speaking in that tone he used when I was little and didn’t know how to throw a popper, “Stacey, you’ve got to do something! She’s my sister. Look at her. There’s nothing holding her up and—”

There’s something to be said about seeing your brother’s face after something traumatic hits (not only your body but also) your mind—you know that everything’s going to be okay. And, seeing his smirk as he brushed off my worried look with a joke made me think how being his little sister was the best thing in the world. My brother always had my back, even when “normal” was to fling me across the living room where that Christmas tree once fell on me. Yes, it was his fault, though he always argued otherwise. He may not look the part, but I learned that he had a heart that bled too when mine hurt just as badly. He knew the disease was real, but no one knew how to cure it. I knew the disease was real, but I had no idea how debilitating.

—

Inside it’s bright, contrary to popular belief. Coming back, you don’t hear the monitors you’re hooked to. You don’t feel the crowded space of a body. You don’t grasp the effect of your breathing. You’re a bird without wings that just falls.

Far away, the harsh breathing of a girl shakes my startled mind that can’t even hold my body in its probing hand. The sound reminds me of someone breaking through the waves of the ocean, gasping for breath after almost drowning.

Unplugging the water from my ears, I think, Someone! Someone needs to help that poor girl. Please—

The echo of distant breathing wraps around my head and rips the lungs before it enters in.

My chest lurches forward.

The feeling in my fingers hotly slips back. That girl is me.

—

The soul feels more than the body, or so I’m told by memory. Looking back on that one hospital visit where hung dimensions and spirit faces, it’s like a light at the end of a movie where the credits roll, and you attempt to remember your favorite part. Heaven tries to recall footprints upon my mind that is too feeble a thing to grasp the essence of the extraordinary. Dullness is something built in to the body, so I cannot aim at the stars for the purpose of making them meet my feet (but I can tell you that they are there even when the daylight shines and masks them).

You’ve heard it said that faith is being sure of what you hope for and certain of what you do not see.

Faith is not a small thing these days. I have faith that the stars are steadily shining and exploding and birthing outside even when I’m inside. The stars are still glowing when you read this, when it’s dark, when in doubt. I have faith that I’m alive even after my heart stops. Because of the decision I made when I was young enough to keep hold of that red balloon lest it leak into the sky, to trust something bigger than myself, my heart stopped; it stopped defeating its purpose. No, its purpose is not blood and guts, and all that medicine. Its purpose is to know something bigger. To know that yes, the doctors say I shouldn’t be alive today because of too many complications with my heart, my veins, my cells, my energy, my yadda yadda . . .

You’ve heard it said that God is dead.

But, I don’t believe the doctors. Anymore.

—

Finally, my eyes peek open amidst a black-dotted mess of nurses’ alarmed faces. But, I don’t see this.

There’s a big red balloon right above my bed, with a whole other mess of them tied down beside.

Time, Stress & Breaking it down contemporary style

I’m taking 18 hours this college semester, and life’s pretty hectic. God and I were talking about time and how it’s such a small measurement these days…and He also told me that He’s got it all under control. Although I wouldn’t mind God making some more time, I’ve noticed that one thing I can’t go without is time with Him because He always rejuvenates and restores. When you spend time on God, you get more time back. It’s like He gives you a time machine. And, who doesn’t want time? Have you noticed that He never ceases creating new things? Think about it.

We’re limited by our time and materials; if we make something, it’s temporal…and will most likely not come to life unless you’re a post-modern Victor Frankenstein. But, God – He’s different. Always has been. And, I’ve learned that He never changes – He’s always the same, energetic Creator that wants to create something new inside you, inside me. And, He is pleased when an opportunity comes along where you open yourself to His creating hands.

In this day and age, as I people watch (yes, I do this often…I know what you might be thinking…but remember: I’m a writer – I HAVE to people watch for the sake of making believable characters…at least, that’s my excuse ;)…So, as I people watch, I notice that we’re fidgety, uncomfortable beings who are rushed and pressed for time. When we allow the stress of everyday life to crowd inside our minds, we let the most precious gift of all flutter by without a notice. Life! Life is the precious thing we need to take time to realize. Yes, time is short, but in that temporality, God has created volumes of new things He’s just waiting to show you.

 

So, what do we do when stress makes our minds go haywire? Well, let’s break it down real slow…

Let’s pick up II Chronicles 20. So, there’s this stressful situation, right? And, God is standing right beside His people, see, and He’s watching this whole thing take place. Well, enough of my rambling. Read it yourself; this is II Chronicles 20 broken down for you…

So, God was like, “why ya’ll freaking out?”
And, the people were like, “yo, God, there’s this huge army that’s gonna shred us into kibbles and bits, and we’re trippin’.”
So, God’s main man, Jahaziel, (gesundheit) raps, “Hey, peeps, hear the word of our God, ‘You don’t have to fight this battle (when all you really do is rattle about the whats and the whos and the whys but it don’t fly) cuz all that matters is standing in His midst and being still in Him – seeing the salvation of the Lord. He is for you, so stand up to Glory.”
And the people were like, “Aww yeah, man, le’s do this thing.”
And, they plundered their enemies…and they were like, “Do it again God!” And He did.
The end :)

Who are you?

What do you see when you look in the mirror…when you think of yourself? Stop a sec…here’s who God sees…

You are:

A Mighty Warrior who’s already won the battle because of Christ’s victory…so we’re no longer trapped. (Ephesians 6:10-18)

“The world is unprincipled. It’s dog-eat-dog out there! The world doesn’t fight fair. But we don’t live or fight our battles that way—never have and never will. The tools of our trade aren’t for marketing or manipulation, but they are for demolishing that entire massively corrupt culture. We use our powerful God-tools for smashing warped philosophies, tearing down barriers erected against the truth of God, fitting every loose thought and emotion and impulse into the structure of life shaped by Christ. Our tools are ready at hand for clearing the ground of every obstruction and building lives of obedience into maturity.” 2 Cor. 10:3-6

Colossians 3:2 tells us where to fix our minds (Hebrews 12:1-3). Let’s not get messed up with our small perspective…we get so bogged down with our ocean of emotions and troubles that we forget that we are His:

New creation… 2 Cor. 5:17

Forgiven Eph. 1:7-8

Gifted with power, love, and a sound mind 2 Tim. 1:7

Chosen to be fruitful. John 15:16

Complete Col. 2:9-10

Secure… Rom. 8:31-39; a conqueror in Christ

Confident. Phil. 1:6

FREE from the bonds of Satan and this world. Rom. 6;18; 8:1

Capable… Phil. 4:13 through Him who is able to give us strength. Do you take it? Or, do we just go on living through our own small strength?

Spiritually ALIVE Eph. 2:5

God’s workmanship Eph. 2:10 created to do His good works, which He prepared in Advance for us to do… He has a plan.

Welcome in God’s presence Eph. 2:18; Hebrews 4: 14-16; 1 John 5

Sheltered/protected in God…under His wings… Col. 3:3

So VALUABLE to God, wanted by Him 1 Corinthians 6:20

Member of God’s family 1 John 3: 1-2 and Eph. 2:19

God’s TREASURE 1 Peter 2:9-10

Dearly loved Col. 3:12

Being transformed…that’s process…Sometimes we slip…but He’s always right there to keep us from falling and straighten us back up. 2 Cor. 3:18, Isaiah 41:10

An heir of God Rom. 8:17

A FRIEND of God John 15:15

God’s DELIGHT Zephaniah 3:17

“For the Lord your God is living with you.

He is mighty to save.

He will take great delight in you.

By his love, he will calm all your fears, and He will quiet you.

He will rejoice over you with joyful singing.”

We are welcome to DRAW near to God… Ephesians 3:12

“I praise you because I am fearfully and wonderfully made; Your works are wonderful, I know that full well.” Psalm 139:14 Do you know that full well?

So, you may be wondering what credentials God offers to this perspective… haha, well, here’s a few…

He’s beautiful, loving you better than anyone can.

He has His arms around you, his fingers around you, setting his hands about you, watching you as He says, “just look at it all from this perspective-my eyes.”

God’s strength resides in you. “You are strong, the Word of God remains in you, and you have had victory over the evil one.” 1 John 2:13

“The Lord is near to all who call on him,

to all who call on him in truth.” (Psalms 145:18)

God is forgiving, far more merciful than we could ever imagine. Romans 3:22,25

He is capable. “No one whose hope is in you

will ever be put to shame…” (Psalms 25:3)

(Psalms 54:4 NIV) Surely God is my help; the Lord is the one who sustains me.

God is strength and pure power. Psalm 62

He is salvation and hope despite the world’s fears and devastations. Psalm 62

God is a shield, a Father Who carries you through. Dt. 1:31, Psalm 84:11

(Psalms 73:26) My flesh and my heart may fail, but God is the strength of my heart and my portion forever.

(Psalms 68:19-20) Praise be to the Lord, to God our Savior, who daily bears our burdens. Our God is a God who saves; from the Sovereign LORD comes escape from death.

He is gracious and righteous, full of compassion, bigger than you can imagine, flawless.

Where He is, there is freedom.

He’s calling to you.

He is full of grace and mighty to save.

God is a God of peace. 1 Corinthians 14:33

He is alive and active.

He is with you.

He saved you from death, killing the very fears that hold you down.

He is victor.

He is Savior.

He is Lord.

He is close . . . a Wonderful Counselor.

He is praying for you right now, even when you have no idea what to pray yourself.

He puts fears to rest.

He is love.

He is everlasting. He does not grow tired or weary…there is no limit to His understanding. “Why do you say…“My way is hidden from the LORD; my cause is disregarded by my God”? Do you not know? Have you not heard? The LORD is the everlasting God, the Creator of the ends of the earth. He will not grow tired or weary and His understanding is limitless. He gives strength to the weary and increases the power of the weak. Even youths grow tired and weary, and young men stumble and fall; but those who hope in the LORD will renew their strength. They will soar on wings like eagles; they will run and not grow weary, they will walk and not be faint.”

He is just.

He is gentle.

He is a relentless Warrior.

He humbled Himself to take on human form – being born to die. And, He recognizes each trouble, as He goes through them with us. Yes, there is an enemy for every good thing, every relationship, love, peace, and joy. But, yes, He is the One Who is stronger than that enemy.

He is compassionate.

He sees you. And, He knows you – all of you. And, He loves you completely.

And, if we would go on to tell of God, our lives would not be long enough to convey Who He truly is.

He is so much more.

Now, who’s perspective will you live by today? Yours…or God’s?

I challenge you to hear the words of Judges 6, “God is with you, mighty warrior . . . Go in the Strength you have . . . and I will be with you.” –God

“Adventure is out there!”

Have you forgotten?

Today is a God-made adventure. What’s stopping you from doing great things? Well, it’s probably the 10 hours of homework stuffed in your backpack, the work hours piling up, the schedule of mundane activities that never end . . . and on the list can go. Right?

So, what you need is a little spice and splendor that gives you a good kick out that door. How about . . . hmm . . . I donno – the Savior of the world Who splintered death’s spine and carved out the stars in the sky and . . . and on the list can go. Seeing a pattern yet?

For every mundane thing you do today, God’s standing right there beside you wondering whether or not you really notice. The fact is – for every thing you call “mundane” and “just another day,” God’s made a sunrise just for your day, fine tuned to the very eyes that are expecting His painting colors. For every thing you go through, God’s got something that far outweighs the hardships, the chaos, the dullness, the ______. The answer is not a formula. It’s a relationship.

God’s got the answer to every desire for something new and beautiful and adventurous. So, this is where you come in – get out your aviator helmet and glasses and go fly a plane! Okay, so small steps first – start expecting God to show up. I can’t tell you how many ways He does when you actually look. It’s like a scavenger hunt all throughout your day – and you remember how excited you used to get with those things when you were a kid. Well, with God, it’s much more exciting . . . the prize is friendship with the One Who stole the soul of death and extended His power across the shooting star-laden universe . . . and still He pushed a breath through your hair this morning to wake you up, tickling your eyelashes open.

All He wants is to give you an adventure today. Are you ready?

Plus, spontaneity is pretty fun. Just look at the giraffe, or the blowfish, or the platypus . . . or the human . . . because you know God had some adventure when He rolled out these crazy creatures! The fact is – life is an adventure IF you participate. It’s the conscious decisions that make life an adventure.

Don’t just read this . . .

Everyone’s got a favorite read, a quote, but what’s a great quote without an action…do you have a favorite action? Seriously, words don’t measure up to much without the act on part . . . and the act on . . . well, it kinda needs an i, doesn’t it?

Your battle

Sorry it’s been a while! Been terrorizing nurses and doctors, as well as starting up with school’s Graphic Design program. So, let’s take a little look at what I’ve been writing…hmm…looks like poetry! Haha, well that’s a good start to a new college semester. I’m trying to hone my nonsensical poet skill (that is, if I even have such a skill). Let’s see what you make of this:

The Shadow

Everyone
has a battle, with armor on or off
You might be going through your
war right now
What would I say to you?

Hold tight, for there is a stillness
that only the eye of the storm can hold
For there is a lighter day,
a treasure
where tomorrow will be brighter
or today, or maybe not in this
life. The good will come
near if you wish it
but remember that those things that are dear
are not to be rushed

God does not rush the good
where evil does indeed take aims to strike
but not rushing
does not mean
not caring
His brush strokes are still
in the picture

It is quite a thing to be held
and shelled by the Almighty
Hand that stunned the sky
with lights hung high
and still gently strung
the leaves on a pine.
It is a thing to be sitting
with the Christ
on a park bench, His
arm around you as He watches
you watching the passersby, pulling
out the umbrella when it begins
to rain.
It is quite a thing to be taught
in such a way as this – your battle.
To be taught how to live
life amidst the hard,
knowing how you must go up
through the guck to see the other side of the mountain
sunrise.
It is quite a thing to know Him,
for without hardship
there would be no cross,
there would be no beauty
in the ashes. There would be
no grace. And what is grace
but the evidence of sunlight
overcoming the darkness
by the once so low shadow it cost?