Unto us a Child is born.
Unto us. In a broken world. Where sorrow runs deep. And grief overwhelms.
Where loss breaks our hearts.
And we forget to breathe.
Unto us a Child is born.
Unto us. In a broken world. Where sorrow runs deep. And grief overwhelms.
Where loss breaks our hearts.
And we forget to breathe.
“Afflicted city, lashed by storms and not comforted….”
He will build you a strong and beautiful foundation. Sapphires. And your wall? Precious stones. (Isaiah 54:11-12)
Then, that word mothers hear. And sigh in relief.
“All your children shall be taught by the Lord,
and great shall be the peace of your children.” (Isaiah 54:13)
Hope. For the city of Zion.
Crowds. Criss-crossing street intersections. Train stations. Shopping malls.
In multiple directions.
Pressing up escalators. Hiking staircases. Moving ever forward into trains. Onto sidewalks. Through subways.
Crowds. In your face. Up close. Yet often silent. Solitary.
Eyes on their phones.
Looking down. Or away. Staring off into the distance.