we used to gather to remain in the vine neighbor sister brother mother father singing our songs Kyrie eleison standing room only we were searching for Holy, Holy, Holy in a time of upheaval we found comfort in the cathedral of our hearts in the neighborhood sanctuary
candles prayers stained glass windows used to tell our stories guiding us toward glory dazzling testimonies told in fragile colors we were lost but we found each other and we found our heavenly Father Kyrie eleison
now just silent songs unsung melodies broken monochrome glass and look the vines enter in perhaps searching for souls maybe a prayer or two God make all this old to be new and begin in me please, Lord tell a story of your glory through all that is shattered in me as i sing the ancient song
I have been sorting through what seems like an endless digital pile of photos, keeping those that I want to work on, and deleting those that remind me how valuable my day job is. I ran across some that I liked from my trip to Israel a few years ago. This is the first of a few posts from The Church of the Nativity, in Bethlehem.
rutakintome pictures 
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