It's so tough when your friends reject God...
They run.
Fast and far, farther than me.
In one big crowd
racing one another towards
a nonexistent destination…
condemnation…
misinterpretation…
Farther and farther
'til I can see them no more.
Just pinpricks of fading light
disappearing into the shadow.
Falling…
reaching…
begging…
Still I call after them,
chasing 'til I'm out of breath
and still I run…
But they're gone.
They run.
One hundred miles an hour
in the wrong direction.
"And the king was deeply moved and went up to the chamber over the gate and wept. And as he went, he said, 'O my son Absalom, my son, my son Absalom! Would I had died instead of you, O Absalom, my son, my son!"
~ 2 Samuel 18:33 (David's grief over his son Absalom's death. This is a heart-wrenching story...)
