[Re]build.

I boarded up the windows.

I turned off the electricity.

I left the house in ruins.

Almost empty handed,

I held my heart in my hands.

Shattered. Pieces missing.

I took one last look back.

The yellow caution tape shouted

Never return.

And I was homeless,

Soaked by the torrents.

My shelter stripped away.

Then I heard my name

in a voice louder than all the others.

He called me to a rock.

A solid place.

He called me to rebuild.

And this time,

I was not alone.

Sanctuary.

I was never hungry.

I was never thirsty.

I never needed clothes.

He sheltered me under His wing.

Each morning His mercies were new.

The very first storm could not shake it.

There were no leaks.

He asked for myself. My sacrifices were finally enough.

The foundation was unshakeable.

It had dried long ago,

Waiting for me.

Healing began.

My heart slowly became pure

My heart became whole.

Even with pieces missing,

It began to beat again.

"Though the rains come in torrents and the floodwaters rise and the winds beat against that house, it will not collapse. Because it has been built on bedrock." --Matthew 7.