Psalm 68: 4-6
Sing to God, sing praises to his name; lift up a song to him who rides upon the clouds—his name is the Lord— be exultant before him.
Father of orphans and protector of widows is God in his holy habitation.
God gives the desolate a home to live in; he leads out the prisoners to prosperity, but the rebellious live in a parched land.
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We are daily living with the realities of a great division between us. Yes, humanity has always experienced divisions. They are all awful. Comparing one to another is a useless exercise. The one we currently live in is awful enough and is ours to deal with in our time. There is little room for compromise when the choices are life and death, home and homeless, slave and free. The only thing we can do together is to stare into the abyss, the fissure, the chasm between us. It is a mystery. It is frightening. There where we cannot see the boundaries or the bottom. There, in the abyss, is the great unknown and the great fear - a death that can swallow us all. There, into the abyss, we as children of God are called to meet the God who beckoned us to move beyond our fear, through death, to a life where no one is separated by death, poverty, or prison walls. In the leaping into the abyss is our best and only hope.
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I stare into the abyss, Lord, and I hear singing. Amen.
Deb Grant, resilient child of God, creative tinker of paper, ink, wood, shiny things, paint and words. The human amusement of a parrot and a dog.
Writer, poet, artist, human, citizen, learner, scruffy, goof.
Word Food by Deb is randomly published. More than weekly, less than daily at the following media sites: