A spiderweb crosses the mirror in front of me
Between each strand are shards of reality,
Truth hinted at in each broken piece
at present distorted, seeking release.
I try to make sense of the images I see
Understanding in part, but not fully
What should I believe, I cry out
Desiring clarity, what is this about?
I am helpless to repair the broken looking glass
I wish this discomfort quickly would pass
I am confused, unsure of how to go on
I want wholeness, but I see none.
"Patience my son, I know you are in pain
Under the curse, distortion remains
One day soon, we'll meet face to face
The image restored, in the light of My grace."
1 Corinthians 13:12
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