The day that never ends

The day that never ends

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I hope, when he comes again, it’s unspectacular. 

I hope it’s quiet. I hope it comes as a faint trumpet and the feeling of leaning back into the sea, 

Letting the water slowly take the weight of my body

As the sting of gravity comes off my bones, 

And I begin to float. 

I hope it answers the longings of my heart, quiets the voices in my mind that always shout about how somethings not quite right. 

I hope it satisfies the constant tide of my fears washing up against the shoreline of your truth where I built my home. 

I hope it vindicates my child inside who tried to comfort herself in that place to hide with the hope that one day, maybe dark would be light and things would be alright. 

I hope his hands are soft like silky threads of grass that envelop me as I lay back in his arms

And sin’s firm grasp would melt like wax in his candlelight, and the weight of my pain would stay down like a stake in the ground as I took his hand and we took flight, running up into the heavens, never to be found again. 

I shed those mourning clothes, for the bridegroom has come and the pangs of my hunger are no more. 

I hope the roaring seas and rolling mountains are only a faint whisper in the background, drowned out by the perfect silence and gentle hum of heavenly frequencies and the warmth of the Son. 

I hope I see my mom there. And my brother. And my dad. I hope when the revelation of Christ delights their hearts and ignites their senses and makes their bones take flight, that it’s not too late. 

I hope they too will step into the day that never ends.