Into my comfortable world,
where pleasures were many,
comfort was frequent,
and smiles came easy,
you sent a raging storm.
Broken things,
uprooted things,
lost things,
left in its wake.
Tears flowed,
hurt followed,
anger rushed in,
confusion enveloped,
questions haunted,
answers evaded,
peace crumbled.
Ruins of hope piled up,
faith’s foundations weakened.
Broken buildings,
a metaphor of the heart.
You didn’t send the storm
to judge,
to punish,
to condemn,
to...
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