I reached for you,
Even though distance shook
But nothing found I
In the cold night set before me.
Then, you came
With the weight of your glory
You came, filling the space
Behind and before
You came, in the pressure and terror
Of all that you are.
In half, bent, blood boiled silent scream
You came, like a rambling man
Like a stallion heaving and stamping,
Snorting and kicking at my disbelief,
You came, not speaking, not gently,
But in tremendum;
I was not the shore, but the water you swelled within,
You rolled me, from my depths to shallows,
Your constant wake whitecapped
Tim's authored four books, including Longing For More: Daily Reflections on Finding God in the Rhythms of Life. He and his wife, Christine, co-founded The Edges and live in Charlotte, North Carolina with their three pixie-daughters. Sign-up here to follow their work.