An illuminated screen serves as a lantern to find my children in the darkness. Beyond specifications it discovers my sleeping heart. https://ref.ly/Ps119.105-109;hcsb
Nothing is moored to the dock. The tethers are all frayed from the constant inconsistencies. Or does the port no longer reach the sea? https://ref.ly/Ps119.89-96;hcsb
I spend hours trying to erase around the edges, rarely thinking of how I'm being filled in. Brushes and palletes are consequential. It's the artist that matters. Psalm 119:73-80
Snake oil must cure something - if not the salesman's poverty, the buyer's conscience. For a moment all is right. But the peddling of false hope is like blessing without sacrifice. https://ref.ly/Ps119.49-56