When love runs out? I’ve been there.
And life lessons confirm my weakness. Insufficiency. To love in my own strength.
But He faithfully leads me to the truth.
My love runs out. His never does.
When love runs out? I’ve been there.
And life lessons confirm my weakness. Insufficiency. To love in my own strength.
But He faithfully leads me to the truth.
My love runs out. His never does.
Little stacks of memories. On the floor.
Newspaper clippings browned with age. Aerogramme letters, typed full-length and on the flaps. Magazine articles. Journal entries.
There’s no time to read every word.
So we glance. Skim. Scan for tidbits of life history.
And laugh over stories long forgotten.
Nothing can separate us from His love. Nothing.
Death begs to differ. Disease and pain try to write a different story. The troubles in this world whisper hopelessness.
Loss. Division. Fracture. All attempting to question or deny His love, compassion, and care.
And yet. We dare to hope. Because of our Savior.
He writes the true story.