Sunday morning, more than a decade ago.
Music, fellowship, and reports about what God was doing here and there.
Some things are worth remembering. We learn from looking back—
but we must live forward.
Against the weight of a storm-dark sky, tender stems lean forward—some bending, some breaking, some still reaching.
They hold their fire at the tips, waiting to bloom, waiting to burn, waiting to belong to light.
Perhaps this is all of us:
stretching through shadows,
searching for the thin, golden line that divides earth from eternity.
