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This was Sunday morning, in our church's main office. While the pastor expounded nearby within earshot, Janneke delighted in the light shining on her face, divided evenly through the wooden slats. 


Not how it’s supposed to be,

the chorus that rings consistently

in my mind and on my lips

when what was carefully planned….rips

and tears into pieces that feel scattered

 

until the chorus becomes the thread 

that somehow weaves hope in fear’s stead

and pulls the pieces into place -

while learning to be content with the mystery