She stumbles in again, after the night of wandering. (Yet another.)
Like always, He’s been sitting up, waiting. She’s defiled the ground under the last tree on on the mountain, with another relationship that only lasted an hour. He’s been waiting outside His front door, staring into the starlight. She’s not the kind of person any of us would want to spend our lives with, but He is not like us…
She returns with a torn soul,
He awaits with strong arms.
And His words aren’t what she deserves.
“I am married unto you.
…and I will bring you to Zion”
For God, fidelity is not a response. It is an identity.
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