In the midst of a study
on some words of Solomon,
but really a study of the words of God,
somewhere between the word meaningless
and themes of sovereignty
the facilitator said,
"You are not forgotten."
He kept talking,
the class kept discussing,
but my eyes filled like a brook in springtime
because my mind filled,
recollecting
seasons of war
seasons of peace
seasons of mourning
seasons of dancing
seasons of casting away
seasons of gathering together
seasons of ripping out
seasons of mending
seasons of laughter
and seasons of tears, so many tears it seems
seasons when I spoke - and thus was forgotten
seasons when I kept silent - and I wondered if anyone remembered
And in this darkness I am told,
You are not forgotten.
I will worship
because He has not forgotten me.
No, He hasn't, and you're beautiful.
ReplyDeleteGreat word Amanda!
ReplyDelete