grey layers

He captures all my tears in a jar;
holds it safe and treasures it.
my tears are like precious stones to Him--
little droplets of my soul
(Ps.56:8)

pixelated

rubbing sleep out of bleary eyes...
frustrated with squinting.
wishing for more than just clouds in the skies,
and hoping for more than just hinting.

now i see in the mirror but dimly...
then i shall see face to face;
now i know Him only partly,
but at the end of a long and arduous race
I will know Him as He knows me...fully