Call me strange, but i actually love these buildings, with their bricked up doors and crooked beams. I saw them in Sheffield today; it's a city full of such places.... and i must have taken at least a thousand pictures in my mind. It's also a city full of water and full of springs... a good combination i think. The old, the broken, the run-down remnants of what once was.. buildings that have stories etched into their bricks and mortar, that stand as a visual reminder of what's hidden in the lives of countless nameless faces scattered throughout the streets... brokenness, crookedness, bricked up hearts and tattered minds..... but merged in the midst of this are fountains of water, like hope that springs up, declaring that one day these stoney streets and stoney hearts will break and overflow with rich life again. At least this is my prayer. And this is my plea. I love those walls exactly as they are... in all their reality, with all their marks and crumbling ways... in the same way that i love the people in that city, with all their flaws and all their heartache and all their worn-out dreams.... yet i long for restoration, i long for newness, i long for their freedom... i love that city and the faces held within it.... and i long for that city too, with a longing that's not my own..
Call me strange, but i actually love these buildings, with their bricked up doors and crooked beams. I saw them in Sheffield today; it's a city full of such places.... and i must have taken at least a thousand pictures in my mind. It's also a city full of water and full of springs... a good combination i think. The old, the broken, the run-down remnants of what once was.. buildings that have stories etched into their bricks and mortar, that stand as a visual reminder of what's hidden in the lives of countless nameless faces scattered throughout the streets... brokenness, crookedness, bricked up hearts and tattered minds..... but merged in the midst of this are fountains of water, like hope that springs up, declaring that one day these stoney streets and stoney hearts will break and overflow with rich life again. At least this is my prayer. And this is my plea. I love those walls exactly as they are... in all their reality, with all their marks and crumbling ways... in the same way that i love the people in that city, with all their flaws and all their heartache and all their worn-out dreams.... yet i long for restoration, i long for newness, i long for their freedom... i love that city and the faces held within it.... and i long for that city too, with a longing that's not my own..
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