I was tangled in dirt and roots.
Yet you called, because you saw something more.
I brought you my bouquet, tattered and torn and much less than you deserved.
My heart longed to please you, to offer you more than all I could give.
Yet you called, because you saw something more.
I brought you my bouquet, tattered and torn and much less than you deserved.
My heart longed to please you, to offer you more than all I could give.
Through the darkness you whispered,
“Am I not a merciful Father?”
You reached through the roots that tangled and found this heart calling to you.
You met me at my worst and never flinched at the sight of my humanness.
My mother’s tears hit the ground as you called me Home, but hope has been found in the root of mercy.
“Am I not a merciful Father?”
You reached through the roots that tangled and found this heart calling to you.
You met me at my worst and never flinched at the sight of my humanness.
My mother’s tears hit the ground as you called me Home, but hope has been found in the root of mercy.
The One who has bore the weight of our sin, so that we could
be freed from slavery.
The One who broke the chains that bound, so that we would no
longer be prisoners.
The One who has gone before us and conquered the grave, so
that we would live.
The One whose love is anchored in the promise of the cross,
so that even facing death we may find life without end.
The testimony of His faithfulness.
The assurance of His love.
The knowing that He weeps as we weep.
The rejoicing of a life made whole, rescued, redeemed…
No longer tangled in the mess of this world,
But forever rooted by mercy.
The assurance of His love.
The knowing that He weeps as we weep.
The rejoicing of a life made whole, rescued, redeemed…
No longer tangled in the mess of this world,
But forever rooted by mercy.
Heather Mighells
September 20, 1979 - August 1, 2016
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