Burnt Treasure

When a house of worship burns, believers mourn. We grieve over burned-out spaces, lost books, damaged art and absent friends. We also remember: the satin touch of a well-worn wooden rail, the familiar heft of a hymnbook, the jeweled glow of stained glass in the sunlight, the warm smile of a dear old saint.

 

 

O Lord, teach us to treasure the memories.

 

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2 Responses to Burnt Treasure

  1. In the face of all that’s lost,
    may I treasure what remains.
    Let not their memory be a host
    of smoky fire-stains.
    I hope I see bygone smiles
    and feel the warmth of touch
    that reach across uncounted miles;
    Lord, do I ask too much?
    I now these are safe with You
    but I need them, don’t you see?
    The memories can take me through
    what was and is to be.
    I know that you hold them dear,
    but please, God, lend them here!

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