We get to decide what news for the day gets to go above the fold. We get to decide what the headline is. We get to determine that, though tragedy struck, we will not allow that to consume the joy and wonder of God’s presence. We get to decide that the horror and fears of today don’t get to overwhelm the clear knowledge of God’s sovereignty.
“Untitled” By Arman Sheffey
Trapped behind a shroud of fading smiles.
One false move from cracking and shattering to pieces.
Fumbling for the darkness in a world of light…
dying to feel something…
Something of you.
Something that’s got your fingerprints and mine intertwined and smudging the pages of our short story.
Dull lead scrapes sharp white as the college ruled lines keep the pain from spilling into the next chapter.
Yet the ribbon stays rested along the binding holding the memory on this side of the margin like the banks of a river holding water at bay for a season.
As time treads along the thread its all bound to come unbound.
But what then.
Will past give way to future?
Or will old charcoal brush against and stain the pages yet written?
How can I stay within these lines when yesterday pushes me to freedom?
My emotions ooze across the inches of boundary until My son’s jumping joy calls me to remember tomorrow.
So I accept an invitation to LIVE. AGAIN.