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Stand



Sometimes standing doesn’t feel at all glorious.

 It feels like drowning in a flood of tears;

 It feels like being thrust into the dark earth, the crust hard and
unyielding.

 Standing can feel like not-falling. But only just.

 It can feel like a whisper, our praise being forced through lips tight
with anxiety;

 It can feel like a heart heavy with the holding of a burden.

 Standing is still saying yes …

 The ploughing, the holding on, the words of praise, the one-step
after-another.


 "And having done all things, stand."

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