It’s not that I’m ignoring the pain and dissonance of the world.
No, I am not forgetting, but transcending.
Despite the chaos of creation, still, at the end of every day, the mountains, trees, and flowers of the earth join in a song of jubilation, set on fire by the setting sun, remembering where they came from and where they will one day return.
With them, I join an ancient song of expectation, eagerly yearning for the morning, the dawning of that great day when all that’s lost will be restored.
“I lift up my eyes to the mountains;
from where shall my help come?
My help comes from the Lord,
who made heaven and earth.”
Psalm 121:1-2
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