Emphasis Preaching Journal

Once it was, I was dead -- or at least so it seemed.
Wrapped in the grave clothes of depression,
sealed away from those I loved the most.
It was more than whitewashed walls that separated us.
I could not hear their voices, and it felt as though
I was surely lost for all time.
But then a Voice spoke,
and arms enfolded me,
and they stripped away the shroud of shame,
the winding bands of anger unexpressed,
and I could move again, breathe again, dance again.
It was Love that did it.
Love that promised resurrection.