Even in quiet places...

Image of Shenandoah Falls by Washingtonian.com
(Click on image for larger version)

I've posted two poems by William Stafford. I find his work very appealing: it's contemporary and lean in its vocabulary and very much within the grasp of a broad audience. Most of all, Stafford has something to say and he says it well.

This poem, in the collection Even In Quiet Places, strikes me at the heart of being 61 years old when I find myself musing on what's been as well as on what's to be. I think it will appeal to younger readers, too.


You Reading This: Stop
Don't just stay tangled up in your life.
Out there in some river or cave where you
could have been, some absolute, lonely
dawn may arrive and begin the story
that means what everything is about.

So don't just look either:
let your whole self drift like a breath and learn
its way down through the trees. Let that fine
waterfall-smoke filter its gone, magnified presence
all through the forest. Stand there till all that
you were can wander away and come back slowly;
carrying a strange new flavor into your life.
Feel it? That what we mean. So don't just
read this -- rub your thought over it.

Now you can go on.

-William Stafford


...Stand there till all that
you were can wander away and come back slowly;
carrying a strange new flavor into your life.

You know, that I understand that gives me hope...


-ConcordPastor

Thoughts and verse after Memorial Day...

The Concord Minutemen at St. Bernard Cemetery on Memorial Day
(Click image for a close up!) Photo by ConcordPastor

In many cities and towns (and certainly here in Concord, Massachusetts) soldiers and folks in soldier costumes paraded in formation up and down our streets today or, with less formality, walked to and from salutes and ceremonies. Flags were everywhere and some folks wore the stars and stripes or at least dressed in the national colors for Memorial Day.

We celebrated Mass at the parish cemetery under an archway of flowering trees and before an image of the risen Christ. Shortly after Mass a small parade of soldiers, bagpipers, Minutemen, horses, honored citizens and town officials stopped at our cemetery and gathered hard by the Resurrected One where I offered a prayer, a young woman sang America the Beautiful and two young people played Taps and Echo. A large brass canon delivered three exclamation points to all of this and the parade moved on to another stop in Monument Square.

None of the above is very unusual and I describe a scene repeated "from sea to shining sea" across America.

It is, of course, a good thing to remember the dead, to pray for them and to honor the bravery of those who have served and protected us. Still, the memory and present reality of war invisibly clouded this beautiful New England day and its rites, at least where I was standing.

Here's another poem from William Stafford, good for reading on a day when we gather at monuments and pray...

-ConcordPastor


FOR THE UNKNOWN ENEMY

This monument is for the unknown
good in our enemies. Like a picture
their life began to appear: they
gathered at home in the evening
and sang. Above their fields they saw
a new sky. A holiday came
and they carried the baby to the park
for a party. Sunlight surrounded them.

Here we glimpse what our minds long turned
away from. The great mutual
blindness darkened that sunlight in the partk,
and the sky that as new, and the holidays.
This monument says that one afternoon
we stood here letting a part of our minds
escape. They came back, but different.
Enemy: one day we glimpsed your life.

This monument is for you.

-William Stafford in Every Way Has Two Losers

The soul's direction sure...

Image by Hear2Heal

It's been a while since the poetry of William Stafford has graced this page. Here's a poem for a Saturday night in ordinary time...

Something You Should Know

They bring racing pigeons from everywhere
and set them loose at timed intervals from Little
America, out in Wyoming, every bird
circles high, sets a course, and banks
away toward its right place, the course for home.

I've watched them come, swift in the evening, wings
flashing in the last of the sun, diving steeply
down from the sky into some lone ranch in the junipers
lost to the world but centered for that pigeon's
life, the soul's direction sure. Like yours.

Like mine.


-William Stafford in the collection, Even in Quiet Places

Friday of the Third Week of Lent

Head of a Woman by Alexj von Jawlensky

William Stafford wrote this poem in 1987. I believe it offers images that will touch many of us in many ways... As the poet writes, Any wound is real...

Again, we need to name the alienation if we desire or hope for reconciliation...

Scars

They tell us how it was, and how time
came along, and how it happened
again and again. They tell
the slant life takes when it turns
and slashes your face as a friend.

Any wound is real. In church
a woman lets the sun find
her cheek, and we see the lesson:
there are years in that book; there are sorrows
a choir can't reach when they sing.

Rows of children lift their faces of promise,
places where the scars will be.

- William Stafford, in An Oregon Message

Pause for Prayer: SUNDAY 3/10

Weaving by Astrid Monique

(Today: a poem by William Stafford followed by my reflection designed to help us pause for prayer...)

The Way It Is
There's a thread you follow. It goes among
things that change. But it doesn't change.
People wonder about what you are pursuing.
You have to explain about the thread.
But it is hard for others to see.
While you hold it you can't get lost.
Tragedies happen; people get hurt
or die; and you suffer and get old.
Nothing you do can stop time's unfolding.
You don't ever let go of the thread.

- by William Stafford

Lent is a time for naming
the "thread you follow..."

Most of us lead lives of many threads.
Some are stronger than others,
some are of our own making,
some are woven into the fabric of our being
with or without our permission...

With or without our permission
the Spirit weaves
the thread of God's grace and design
into the cloth of our being, our lives...

God's thread in our lives does not change:
it's pliable yet strong, it hems and mends,
it tucks and tailors, it stitches and sutures...

Lent is a time, a season,
for naming the thread we follow
the thread God sews into our souls...

Lent is a time for finding again
or perhaps discovering for the first time
the thread of God within,
the thread we must hold fast...

The Way It Is
There's a thread you follow. It goes among
things that change. But it doesn't change.
People wonder about what you are pursuing.
You have to explain about the thread.
But it is hard for others to see.
While you hold it you can't get lost.
Tragedies happen; people get hurt
or die; and you suffer and get old.
Nothing you do can stop time's unfolding.
You don't ever let go of the thread.

Lent 2010

Tweet   

SUBSCRIBE HERE!

  

A poem for Memorial Day

The Concord Minutemen at St. Bernard Cemetery on Memorial Day - Photo:ConcordPastor


In many cities and towns today, uniformed personnel will parade in formation up and down our streets and walk to and fro between salutes and ceremonies. Flags will be everywhere and some folks will wear the stars and stripes or dress in the national colors for Memorial Day.

We will celebrate Mass at the parish cemetery under an archway of flowering trees and before an image of the risen Christ. Shortly after Mass a small parade of soldiers, bagpipers, Minutemen, horses, honored citizens and town officials will stop at our cemetery and gather hard by the Resurrected One where I will offer a prayer, someone will sing America the Beautiful and two high school trumpeters will play Taps and Echo. A large brass canon will deliver three exclamation points to all of this and then the parade will move on to its next stop: Sleepy Hollow Cemetery.

None of the above is very unusual.  I'm describing a scene that will be repeated "from sea to shining sea" across America.

It is, of course, a good thing to remember the dead, to pray for them and to honor the bravery of those who have served and protected us. Still, the memory and present reality of war will cloud this day and its rites because we know that sisters and brothers of ours stand in harm's way as we celebrate our picnics and cookouts.

Here's a poem from William Stafford - some good for reading on a day when we gather at monuments and pray...

FOR THE UNKNOWN ENEMY

This monument is for the unknown

good in our enemies. Like a picture

their life began to appear: they

gathered at home in the evening

and sang. Above their fields they saw

a new sky. A holiday came

and they carried the baby to the park

for a party. Sunlight surrounded them.

Here we glimpse what our minds long turned

away from. The great mutual

blindness darkened that sunlight in the park,

and the sky that was new, and the holidays.

This monument says that one afternoon

we stood here letting a part of our minds

escape. They came back, but different.

Enemy: one day we glimpsed your life.

This monument is for you.

-William Stafford

 Every War Has Two Losers



Subscribe to A Concord Pastor Comments 

Thursday after Ash Wednesday

River Runs Through All Times by Philip Hershberger (click for larger version)

On Tuesday I met with a friend who shared with me this poem by William Stafford.

It's not a poem about Lent but it's a poem well-suited for Lenten prayer. Perhaps some readers will share their reflections...


The Way It Is
There's a thread you follow. It goes among
things that change. But it doesn't change.
People wonder about what you are pursuing.
You have to explain about the thread.
But it is hard for others to see.
While you hold it you can't get lost.
Tragedies happen; people get hurt
or die; and you suffer and get old.
Nothing you do can stop time's unfolding.
You don't ever let go of the thread.

-William Stafford

Pause for Prayer: FRIDAY 3/8

Image source

William Stafford's poem, The Way It Is, begins today's Pause for Prayer which follows the poet's work.

The Way It Is
There's a thread you follow. It goes among
things that change. But it doesn't change.
People wonder about what you are pursuing.
You have to explain about the thread.
But it is hard for others to see.
While you hold it you can't get lost.
Tragedies happen; people get hurt
or die; and you suffer and get old.
Nothing you do can stop time's unfolding.
You don't ever let go of the thread.

-William Stafford

Pause for Prayer

Lord,
help me follow the thread...

Help me follow the thread of faith
no matter what happens, 
regardless of the hurt that's mine,
the tragedies I endure...

Give me strength, Lord,
when others fail to see the thread I follow
and give me strength I need when I have trouble
finding and following the thread of my faith...

Help me hold on to the thread of faith,
help me hold as on tight as I can;
help me hold on to the thread of my faith, Lord,
and to follow that thread
'til it brings me to you...

Amen.

A poem for Memorial Day

Here's a poem by William Stafford: good reading for a day when we gather at monuments and pray...

For the Unknown Enemy

This monument is for the unknown

good in our enemies. Like a picture

their life began to appear: they

gathered at home in the evening

and sang. Above their fields they saw

a new sky. A holiday came

and they carried the baby to the park

for a party. Sunlight surrounded them.

Here we glimpse what our minds long turned

away from. The great mutual

blindness darkened that sunlight in the park,

and the sky that was new, and the holidays.

This monument says that one afternoon

we stood here letting a part of our minds

escape. They came back, but different.

Enemy: one day we glimpsed your life.

This monument is for you.

-William Stafford in Every War Has Two Losers

Tweet  
     
Subscribe to A Concord Pastor Comments 

Pause for Prayer: TUESDAY 3/14

Weaving by Astrid Monique

(Today: a poem by William Stafford 
followed by a reflection
designed to help us pause for prayer...)

The Way It Is
There's a thread you follow. It goes among
things that change. But it doesn't change.
People wonder about what you are pursuing.
You have to explain about the thread.
But it is hard for others to see.
While you hold it you can't get lost.
Tragedies happen; people get hurt
or die; and you suffer and get old.
Nothing you do can stop time's unfolding.
You don't ever let go of the thread.

- by William Stafford

Lent is a time for naming
the "thread you follow..."

Most of us lead lives of many threads.
Some are stronger than others,
some are of our own making,
some are woven into the fabric of our being
with or without our permission...

With or without our permission
the Spirit weaves
the thread of God's grace and design
into the cloth of our being, our lives...

God's thread in our lives does not change:
it's pliable yet strong, it hems and mends,
it tucks and tailors, it stitches and sutures...

Lent is a time, a season,
for naming the thread we follow
the thread God sews into our souls...

Lent is a time for finding again
or perhaps discovering for the first time
the thread of God within,
the thread we must hold fast...

The Way It Is
There's a thread you follow. It goes among
things that change. But it doesn't change.
People wonder about what you are pursuing.
You have to explain about the thread.
But it is hard for others to see.
While you hold it you can't get lost.
Tragedies happen; people get hurt
or die; and you suffer and get old.
Nothing you do can stop time's unfolding.
You don't ever let go of the thread.

Lent 2010
Tweet


 
Subscribe to A Concord Pastor Comments

Commencement: a beginning, not an end...

Graduation at Concord-Carlisle High School

It's the season for high school and college graduations: rites of passage for our young people. There have been articles in the press recently noting how fewer and fewer politicians are being invited to give commencement talks because of tension between Catholic institutions and policies in law that some Catholic office holders support. Here and there a Catholic bishop has announced that legislators in his diocese who support pro-choice policies are not welcome to receive Communion.

While the Church teaches that to receive Communion we should be in communion with gospel values, it rarely draws the line in the sand as clearly as these bishops have. Most bishops work to persuade their people and individual politicians of the critical importance of such teachings but do not issue ultimatums.

Many people, for any number of reasons, experience the Church as an institution whose doors have been closed shut on them. I believe that leaving the doors ajar so all are free to come and go will best serve the teaching Church, the gospel's values and God's people - especially in times as difficult and complicated as our own.

Graduation can be a difficult and complicated time for young people - in spite of its being a day to celebrate accomplishment with great joy. This coming weekend we'll take a few moments at one of our Sunday liturgies to pray over the high school students who are graduating in a few weeks. We'll give them a copy of Thomas Merton's beautiful prayer, My Lord God, I have no idea of where I'm going... which I adapted in a homily a few weeks ago.

Perhaps you have high school or college graduates you're praying for. A few days ago I came across this poem by William Stafford. I offer it here for you to read as you pray for graduates in your families and parishes.


For My Young Friends Who Are Afraid

There is a country to cross you will
find in the corner of your eye, in
the quick slip of your foot -- air far
down, a snap that might have caught.
And maybe for you, for me, a high, passing
voice that finds its way by being
afraid. That country is there, for us,
carried as it is crossed. What you fear
will not go a way; it will take you into
yourself and bless you and keep you.
That's the world, and we all live there.

-William Stafford in The Way It Is



-ConcordPastor

On poetry, preaching - and praying...

"...it could be weeds in a vacant lot..." Image by P. M. Eckle

It has taken me 61 years to realize that I need to read poetry.

In the first draft of this post I wrote, "...that I need to read more poetry" but that would suggest that I was already reading some poetry and that would not be true.

Late last summer in search of something for this blog I picked a dusty Poetry of Robert Frost of my shelf. I started reading and found it a mostly pleasant and rewarding experience - all except for the poems (the longer ones) I found confusing. The Frost poems I've posted here have all been favorably received.

Then a friend gave me a copy of a poem by William Stafford and that led me to Amazon online and Borders in real time, finding much more of Stafford's work and wondering how I had never known this man's name before now. (Here are the Stafford poems I've posted.)

On a recent stroll through Barnes and Noble I came across Mary Oliver's work. Again, I was embarrassed not to have known the name of this wonderful writer named in 2007 by the New York Times Book Review as "far and away, this country's best selling poet" - which means I should probably be reading the NYTBR more often, too!

Now I have books of poems by Frost, Stafford and Oliver at my writing desk and I pick them up at odd moments to page through and stop when titles and opening lines make me pause. It strikes me that preachers should be readers of poetry. That's not to say that homilies should be poetic (nor to say that they shouldn't) but the preacher is a wordsmith for the faith and poets have something to offer us for our craft that no one else can teach.

Poets cherish and understand words - they love them. They know how to massage their meaning and meter, relaxing them to a composed beauty others had not yet found in them. A poet holds words as if they were jewels and turns them slowly in the light until they refract meaning and color that play differently on all who read them.

In their own way, preachers are meant to do just the same with the words of scripture. And that's why preachers should read more poetry.

Bookstores have shelves, rows and sections of poetry, much of which I don't like or find difficult to understand and at 61 I need to work with what I can grasp in a relatively short time! I understand Mary Oliver's poetry and hope you will appreciate the simple beauty of her words here.

PRAYING

It doesn't have to be
the blue iris, it could be
weeds in a vacant lot, or a few
small stones; just
pay attention, then patch

a few words together and don't try
to make them elaborate, this isn't
a contest but the doorway

into thanks, and a silence in which
another voice may speak.

-Mary Oliver, in the collection, Thirst



-ConcordPastor

CP's bookshelf

Bookcase design by David Ngo

I wonder if I could commission the Concord Carpenter to build me a bookcase like this one...

As you may have seen on other blogs, I've added a virtual bookshelf to the side bar (scroll down).

There are six books currently on my shelves, 3 are my own publications (from some years ago, but still in print) and three are books currently of interest to me.

My own works are:

Preparing for Liturgy: a theology and spirituality
Prayerbook for Engaged Couples
Parish Weddings

The other three:

Writing the Australian Crawl by William Stafford
The Shack by William P. Young
Called Out of Darkness: a spiritual confession by Anne Rice

If you pass your cursor over each book on the shelf, an editorial summary will appear and you'll only be a click away from ordering from Amazon.com.

-ConcordPastor

Lent: finding the thread you follow

Weaving by Astrid Monique

The Way It Is 
 There's a thread you follow. It goes among
things that change. But it doesn't change.
People wonder about what you are pursuing.
You have to explain about the thread.
But it is hard for others to see.
While you hold it you can't get lost.
 Tragedies happen; people get hurt
or die; and you suffer and get old.
Nothing you do can stop time's unfolding.
You don't ever let go of the thread.

- William Stafford
 

Lent is a time for naming
the "thread you follow..."

We lead lives of many threads.
Some are stronger than others,
some are of our own making,
some are woven into the fabric of our being
with or without our permission...

The Spirit weaves
the thread of God's grace and design
into the cloth of our existence,
with or without our permission...

God's thread in our lives doesn't wear or change:
strong and pliable, it hems and mends,
tucks and tailors
with or without our permission...

Lent is a time for finding and naming
the threads we follow
and the threads that follows us...

Lent is a time for finding again
(or discovering for the first time)
how God threads our lives with his,
how God's thread never lets go
and how we must never let go of it...

Tweet  

     
Subscribe to A Concord Pastor Comments 

NIGHT PRAYER: Wednesday 7/16

In conversation with someone today I had occasion to use the image, "a thread runs through it..."  Which reminded me of William Stafford's poem, The Way It Is and a prayer I wrote based on it.  I've posted this several times but I'll take this afternoon's inspiration as a nudge from the Holy Spirit that perhaps someone will find this helpful this evening...

Let's begin with Safford's poem...

The Way It Is

 

There's a thread you follow. It goes among

things that change. But it doesn't change.

People wonder about what you are pursuing.

You have to explain about the thread.

But it is hard for others to see.

While you hold it you can't get lost.

Tragedies happen; people get hurt

or die; and you suffer and get old.

Nothing you do can stop time's unfolding.

You don't ever let go of the thread.

    Fiber art by Astrid Monique

Most of us lead lives of many threads. Some are stronger than others, some are of our own making, some are woven into the fabric of our being with or without our permission...   With or without our permission the Spirit weaves the thread of God's grace and design into the cloth of our being, our lives... 

God's thread in our lives does not change: it's pliable yet strong, it hems and mends, it tucks and tailors, it stitches and sutures...

Be the thread, Lord, 

that runs through my whole life,

the thread of grace 

that sews my soul to yours...

Thread your grace through my relationships,

through all my joys and sorrows, 

through the good times and the bad times, 

through all my nights and days...

 

Be the the thread, Lord,

that holds tight, secure and strong

in the face of all that threatens to unravel

all that holds me close to you...

Be the thread I can't explain

and don't really understand,

yet the thread for which I'm grateful

for all the ways it stitches up 

the wounds that rend my heart...

 

Be the thread I always cling to,

the thread I won't let go of:

the thread of faith, my thread of hope,

your thread of love 

that knits my heart to yours...

 

Protect me, Lord, while I'm awake

    and watch over me while I sleep

that awake, I might keep watch with you

    and asleep, rest in your peace...

 

Amen.

 

Here's a song about threads and I hope it will have meaning for all of us, and especially for those, these days, who may be "hanging on by a thread..."  

Threads by David Leonard

 

If a widget doesn't appear below, click here!  

I'm tired of trying to keep it all together 

Tired of lies disguising who I really am 

 

There's pain that’s hiding underneath the surface 

I’m tired of trying to keep it on the inside 

 

But here before your love I’m not afraid 

 

I’m gonna let you pull the threads 

   ‘til my heart unravels

Open me up with every breath 

   ‘til the darkness scatters and runs away 

I’m ready to fall apart 

Fall into your loving arms 

I’m gonna let you pull the threads 

   ‘til my heart unravels into Yours 

 

You’re reaching out your hand 

To pull me close again 

You see me as I am still you want me 

 

Here before your love I'm not afraid

You stitch me back together with your grace 

Here before your love I'm not afraid

You stitch me back together with your grace

 

Tweet   

SUBSCRIBE HERE!

  

Pause for Prayer: SUNDAY 5/25

 

On different dates and in different ways, every nation honors those who gave their lives in service of their homeland.  In the United States, we do this especially on Memorial Day. Those who gave their lives in one place, did so because they had enemy in another place - yet in that other place, our enemies are honored as heroes by their own people.  It is because we are, indeed, all one, that we are all children of one God, that we need to love our neighbor - even our enemy.

This poem by William Stafford prayerfully places before us the implication of the Lord's commandment: Love one another as I have loved you...

For the Unknown Enemy

This monument is for the unknown
good in our enemies. Like a picture
their life began to appear: they 
gathered at home in the evening 
and sang. Above their fields they saw
a new sky. A holiday came
and they carried the baby to the park
for a party. Sunlight surrounded them.

Here we glimpse what our minds long turned
away from. The great mutual 
blindness darkened that sunlight in the park,
and the sky that was new, and the holidays.
This monument says that one afternoon
we stood here letting a part of our minds
escape. They came back, but different. 
Enemy: one day we glimpsed your life.

This monument is for you.

Tweet   

SUBSCRIBE HERE!

  

Pause for Prayer: THURSDAY 2/18

    A Thread Runs Through It by Leah Virsik

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Let's begin with this poem by William Stafford...

The Way It Is

There's a thread you follow. It goes among
things that change. But it doesn't change.
People wonder about what you are pursuing.
You have to explain about the thread.
But it is hard for others to see.
While you hold it you can't get lost.
Tragedies happen; people get hurt
or die; and you suffer and get old.
Nothing you do can stop time's unfolding.
You don't ever let go of the thread.

                              §      §      §

Now, let's Pause for Prayer...

Be the thread that runs through me, Lord,

be the thread that runs through my life

and knits me as one with you...

Be the thread, Lord, 

weaving grace through my relationships,

in and out of my joys and sorrows,

running through my nights and days...

 

Be the thread that doesn't change, Lord,

the thread that holds secure and strong

in spite of all the changes pulling me apart, 

rending my heart, seeking to unravel

all that holds me close to you,..

Be the thread I can't explain and don't understand,

but the thread for which I'm grateful,

oh, so grateful, Lord,

for all the ways it keeps me, holds and saves me...

Be the thread I don't let go of, 

won't let go of ever, Lord - not ever:

be the thread of life, the thread of love,

that is my life forever...

 

Oh, and Lord -

be the thread that runs right through these 40 days

threading grace through prayer and fasting,

threading love through charity, 

threading your sweet mercy

through the fibers of my life...

 

Amen.

Tweet   

  
Subscribe to A Concord Pastor Comments 

NIGHT PRAYER: Wednesday 9/28

For weeks now, Lord, William Stafford's poem 

has been sounding in my memory, mind and heart:

The Way It Is
There's a thread you follow. It goes among
things that change. But it doesn't change.
People wonder about what you are pursuing.
You have to explain about the thread.
But it's hard for others to see.
While you hold it you can't get lost.
Tragedies happen; people get hurt
or die; and you suffer and get old.
Nothing you do can stop time's unfolding.
You don't ever let go of the thread.

You're my thread, Lord,

    the thread I follow...

 

You're the changeless thread 

    weaving through the changing things

        that constitute my life...

But you never change, Lord:

    you're constant, abiding, enduring;

    you're faithful, unwavering and steadfast...

 

You're always there and always the same:

    gentle and strong, loving and merciful,

        just and true, kind and gracious...

I trace the thread of your presence

    wherever I am, wherever I go,

    whatever in life befalls me:

        in a mountain creek and my family's warmth,

        in a dying friend's hand entwined with mine,

        in the calm I know in the midst of distress,

        in the turn and fall of leaves from the trees,

        in pondering my numberless numbered days,

        in the hope I hold on to in hopeless times,

        in my torn, ragged edges, sewed and mended

            by the thread of your saving grace... 

Not everyone sees this golden thread,

    some think me a fool when I lay claim

to this strand that holds me together,

    that knits me as one with you, Lord,

weaving me into your tapestry 

    of nature, nurture and neighbor...

 

I'm holding on to you, my thread,

    my lifeline tethering me to your Spirit

guiding me safely through change after change,

    your unchanging glory my path and my goal...

Help me never let go of this thread, O Lord,

    and never let my hand slip  from yours;

let me never lose track of the thread that weaves

    through my heart to yours, forever more... 

Protect me, Lord, while I'm awake

and watch over me while I sleep

that awake, I might keep watch with you

and asleep, rest in your peace...

Amen. 

 

Threads by David Leonard

If a video doesn't appear below, click here!

 

 

Tired of trying to keep it all together 

Tired of lies disguising who I really am 

 

There's pain that’s hiding underneath the surface 

I’m tired of trying to keep it on the inside 

 

But here before Your love I’m not afraid 

 

Oh oh I’m gonna let You pull the threads 

‘til my heart unravels 

Open me up with every breath 

‘til the darkness scatters and runs away 

I’m ready to fall apart 

Fall into Your loving arms 

I’m gonna let You pull the threads 

‘til my heart unravels into Yours 

 

You’re reaching out Your hand 

To pull me close again You see me as I am still You want me 

 

Here before Your love I'm not afraid 

You stitch me back together with Your grace 

 

Tweet   

SUBSCRIBE HERE!