ann kiemel

i have a dear friend.
beautiful. unpretentious.
pure. and all God's.

a storm blasted her family
last week. the world lay flat.
the sky reached down and slashed
the earth. side to side.

my friend's brother.
tall. chiseled features.
brilliant, in spite of learning
disabilities. senior pastor
of a large church.

from the blast of depression.
in a moment and time when it
seemed so reasonable to him,
he took his life.

storms.
howl and blow around us.
stand fast. hold on.

yes, i believe he's with Jesus.
"He understands our frame;
He knows we are dust."

Psalm 103:14

"i'll praise you in this storm.
and i will lift my hands, for You are
who You are. no matter where i am,
every tear i've cried, you hold in your hand.
You never left my side,
and though my heart is torn,
i will praise You in this storm."

"as the thunder rolls,
i barely hear Your whisper through the rain,
i'm with you. and as You mercy falls,
i raise my hands and praise the God who gives
and takes away."

i will lift my eyes unto the hills,
where does my help come?
my help comes from the Lord,
the Maker of Heaven and earth.

Psalm 121:1,2

warriors.
we wear the scars.
even if it just keeps raining.