7.10.25

I choose Death, Lord—
and find joy in the dying.
The breaking is gentle,
Your hands are kind.
Where I end,
grace begins—
a stillness, a splendor.
In losing myself,
I meet You fully,
and it is beautiful to be nothing,
but Yours.
-Lele
7.10.25

I choose Death, Lord—
and find joy in the dying.
The breaking is gentle,
Your hands are kind.
Where I end,
grace begins—
a stillness, a splendor.
In losing myself,
I meet You fully,
and it is beautiful to be nothing,
but Yours.
-Lele