We cried,
“How long, O Lord, how long
will we be made to wait, and swallow jagged shards of that unchristened chalice of whose warm wine we never took a taste and all we drank was emptiness unplanned?”
And he replied,
“Until you learn the song
that only sorrow sings, of how my soul regards your ev’ry wound, and malice
has no place in my design, but all is paced
to come with double blessings in my hand.”
- John Piper -
It’s amazing how a set of random words strung together decades and centuries ago can perfectly capture an experience.