In the End

That Christmas comes at the end, in the final breaths of a wasting year, is best. After the muscle-ache of trekking graveside and back, graveside and back; after the haunting loneliness— of beauty-gazing and solo-missions, of incomprehensible party chatter, of home without its people; after the long war— the blitzkrieg of unrelenting lies, and the … Continue reading In the End

What Would Have Been

The clench of pain, the darkness pressing; the future robbed, all longing wasted; the music quenched, the pleasure hollow; the loves in vain, the friendships fading; all losses sealed, the grief unbroken; all hope unknown, all roads unsteady; a failing breath, and death forever— if Jesus had not risen. .