It wasn’t in the noise of worship where I found Him

But in the dark silence of the empty chapel 

Not in the halls of the powerful, no, especially not here

But in the sad, lonely places, the cracked homes of those who cry alone

Not in the empty commands and loud boasts of the mighty 

But in the wailing cries of the suffering

The beauty and brokenness of people

The grace underlying even the bitterest of moments

The promise that the sun rises until it no longer will