A burning bush searing my heart. As I study this pure white token of faith and power I notice the hand-crocheted edges...crafted by a stranger. The lace is loopy and uneven; imperfect. How fitting that I should raise this token laden with symbol in a God revealed shout; imperfect. While I linger on holy ground and listen to impressions that really do press... I feel complete. He alone can make me whole.
Amen, Amen, and Amen.