Words penned into my journal while watching the sun disappear over the horizon...
 

Last night, the smell of alcohol still on my hands, my jeans damped from sick... I turn to the Word... share a bit of truth, prophesied to the dry bones, trusting in their liberation... my words are His weapons... arrows targeting deception... my hands are His tools, lifting the downtrodden, comforting the shoulders of the brokenhearted... my feet, His vehicle... unveiling His glory and Good News to the nations in the streets... paving the way for the King. His bass fills my ears, my heart invaded by the rhythm of His grace... and this is Home... where earthly destruction meets heavenly beauty, where overindulgence meets selfless worship... here my heart finds its unexpected home... in the proximity or the place? perhaps a little of both... either way, as the sun sets, the lights rise again. as the sky darkens, their dawn breaks... and they'll emerge into the streets... and we'll welcome them home... into Your arms.