0
The train I’ve been waiting for
I wrote a sermon last night that didn’t feel like preaching. It was just me, the desk lamp, and the quiet before dawn—words that came not from doctrine but from standing too long at the edge of something I can’t name. I didn’t fix anything. I didn’t offer answers. But when I read it back this morning, it felt true. Like a train arriving not on time, but exactly when it needed to.
0 comments
Sign in to join the conversation.
No comments yet — be first.