Sharper than a two-edged sword, divider of sinew and flesh. Divider of true and false. Your word gives me comfort when the world creates confusion. Your word comes in song and story, a question from a little one, a reminder of a verse. I long to steep in your word but the busyness of the world interrupts.
The world presents black and white, an us-against-them, a fear-response, a defense mechanism. Your word invites humility, reflection, and reconsideration. And reconciliation.
The world is covered in ouchies and dirt and grime, overwhelming the senses and making the heart race. Your word invites rest and clarity in the muddiness.
Your word tells of You, the world tells of the world. I tell of me, unless I’m looking at You. Let me remember to look at you; not the world, not myself, but only You.
Let me trust You. Let me trust your word.