I do not know the path I take;
I only know You’re here.
I do not see beyond this place;
I cannot hide my fear.
The doubts rise up inside my heart;
A coldness settles in.
And though I know that here You are,
I tremble deep within. ...continue reading
Author Archives: Chayli
Dead. But Not for Long.
A barren hill, scraped by a listless wind, bald and white against the black sky.
A rabid crowd, garbed in grey, shouting for death but not yet knowing that for One death brings life.
A rough-hewn cross, etched in blood.
A Man.
But I cannot look at the Man, cannot bear to see that skin blackened with blood, that body so tortured by countless stripes and merciless beatings.
So I wander through the crowd, and I search their eyes for any relief from the dread that is overpowering on this day, but I do not find it.
I see the children, with their huge, solemn eyes, and the echo of their late hosannas cracks like thunder through my mind. Their voices are stilled now. There is no joy left in their faces. I see only fear. Fear, and a numbing knowing. ...continue reading
The Smile in the Bad Days
Ideally, every day would be a good day. But everyone knows we don't live in a world like that. Some days just aren't good, at least they don't seem to be in the moment. They have their sadnesses or their confusions or their annoyances, and no matter how hard we seek it, relief is slow in coming.
I learned yesterday that even those days have worth. They might even have joy. Mine did. I had to look for it later, but it was there all the same.
I found it in the little things. . . ...continue reading
Worm Trails
We went for a walk, my niece, the dog, two boys on bikes, and me.
The worms were out, scattered across the sparkling, just-rained-on driveway like the longest pink eraser shavings you've ever seen.
We walked, and they curled and uncurled themselves in the sun, seeming to have come from nowhere and with nowhere to go.
Then I saw all the little trails behind them, crissing and crossing over the packed gravel.
A labyrinth of the past. A record of paths intersected.
And I realized that's how my own past looks, crissed and crossed and scattered and directed by the steps and the influence of others. ...continue reading
How Gentle God’s Commands
How gentle God's commands!
How kind His precepts are!
Come, cast your burdens on the Lord
And trust His constant care.
Beneath His watchful eye
His saints securely dwell;
That hand which bears all nature up
Shall guard His children well.
Why should this anxious load
Press down your weary mind?
Haste to your heavenly Father's throne
And sweet refreshment find. ...continue reading
