Jesus,
All things will die.
My fear.
The person that made me fear.
And I.
40 years later.
Or 4.000 years later.
All things will die.
So what do I fear now?
Please hold my hand.
Let’s sleep, Jesus.
Amen.
PTH
Jesus,
All things will die.
My fear.
The person that made me fear.
And I.
40 years later.
Or 4.000 years later.
All things will die.
So what do I fear now?
Please hold my hand.
Let’s sleep, Jesus.
Amen.
PTH
My dear, your prayer reminds me a beautiful poem of the great Rumi
“What comes, will go. What is found, will be lost again. But what you are is beyond coming and going and beyond description.”
— Rumi
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Thanh you, Hằng, for sharing. The poem is deep.
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