Out of the depths I cry to You!
In your Mercy, hear my voice!
Let your ears be attentive to
the voice of my supplications!
If You should number the times we
stray from You, O Beloved,
who could face You?
Yet You are ever ready to forgive,
that we might be healed.
I wait for You, my soul waits,
and in your Word, I hope;
My soul awaits the Beloved
as one awaits the birth
of a child, or
as one awaits the fulfillment
of their destiny.
Peace is not made through theory. Too many people die in war. This grief, this pain can still be felt. No matter how loud one cries, this way no peace can be achieved. The flowers of the meadow, the small insects have life. Each life has to be respected; Where else should peace come from?
