Pulled

It’s easy to be disenchanted. It’s tough to walk around homesick with your nose to the sunrise, knowing Something is out there, haunting your loves and your pains. I woke up wounded on a summer night 1986. That wound, magnificently gashed too deep to see, will only fully heal when I’m in the arms of that relentless Someone. Caught up into a higher life, “being pulled into God, by God,” while still remaining myself.

That’s where the magic smolders eternal. In an ordinary prayer. That’s where I hear him singing.

Advertisements

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s