Sunday, September 30, 2007

September 30

2007

I read all the letters I've written you since you left.
The bitterness on the pages surprises me.

This day, I'm changed.

Those words aren't mine this day.

This day, I'd like to know you again.
(Maybe.)

This day, I wish you happiness like I would wish
if you were a once-intimate-now-distant friend.

Can it be that God has truly healed my heart?
Or am I a different kind of grown-cold this day?

Has He healed your heart?

Will you ever come home?

Happy 39th Birthday, Sarah.

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