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I said, “oh, that I had the wings of a dove!
I would fly away and be at rest—
I would flee far away
   and stay in the desert;               SELAH
I would hurry to my place of shelter,
far from the tempest and storm.”

Psalm 55:6-8 NIV

Often Lord, from life, I want to run and hide.
Glory be, as a consolatory dove, by my side.
Lifting me to heights, unaware, breathing rest.
You place me in the cleft. I weep on your breast.

I have no wings, but you carry me on yours.
When suffering and grief show up, we soar.
Together with my love, hope and faith — Lord.
O how on calvary your blood and tears poured.

1/18/2022

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