The Yellowstone in My Heart
Four days home, and the emptiness runs deep,My tears fall like the gushing Yellowstone,Pouring over the smooth, cold stone of the asphalt.
My soul aches for the mornings I woke to His design,When I stood on the rugged spine of Beartooth Pass,And touched the very roof of God’s majestic world.
Now, my lungs catch on the heavy city air,And human rejection stings like a winter frost.I watched them choose others, heard the excuses, felt the cold shoulder of a crowded sanctuary, but the mountains never told me they were too busy.
The Creator of the peaks does not play favorites, So I look away from the shadows of the crowd, to turn my eyes to the gifts right in front of me.
I hold tight to my husband, I cherish my daughter,And I offer my worship to the One who always listens. I am breathing city dust but my heart is safe with the God who never runs out of time.
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