there are days when dark clouds paralyze my mind and sanity escapes me. even remnants of the dream seem defiantly elusive. strength bled to weakness. passion emptied to numbness. forget brokenness; it feels as though God has taken pestle and mortar to my life, reducing everything to a fine powder that will fly away with the wind over time.

i simply trust. not because i am a saint. but because i am a wretched soul and my only other option is despair.

i know He is still at work because i am left with nothing except a love that grows with time and a flame that refuses to die, and i am incapable of sustaining either on my own.

Benita Joy