Here We Gather Once More, Beloved

Across borders, scars, and languages, we gather again — not because we are worthy, but because Love called us. What follows is my offering: a psalm for the soiled, the wounded, the hopeful, and the Beloved.

Here we gather once more, Beloved,

from many lands, peoples, and tongues.

We draw near by the Blood,

fearfully, intentionally,

that we might not profane the Holy.

Some of us, like me,

are so soiled we barely dare come at all;

our souls layered with scars

that could chart an atlas.

Yet still You said:

“Bring Me your soiled, your wounded, your slain.”

So here we are, at the foot of Majesty.

We lift our shattered, sacred song,

worship amid turmoil,

faith amid global misconceptions,

centering ourselves fully upon You.

We receive this truth: to know You is to love You;

to love You is to share You;

and in sharing You,

our highest praise arises.

For treasures abound in this world

to charm the eye and please the taste,

yet only One, once given,

gives again —

only One becomes Love and Life.

As always Dust,

To you,

For you,

From Him,

In me.