“The Lord is close to the brokenhearted and saves those who are crushed in spirit.”
—Psalm 34:18 NIV
Sorrow lit
the way,
similar every day,
to now a hope that
follows through—
that no man
can undo.
And even though
its sword
drew more than
enough blood,
that left trails
for years,
followed closely
by a row of tears,
the blade struck
nothing but air,
and in the final stare,
I let go of it all.
Never felt so small
as when I pretended
there was no
greater call.
But the scar
built resilience.
The immunity
was strengthened,
sitting in the pestilence.
The light—
that spark that
lit the lamp—
started with being
damp.
“We are hard pressed on every side, but not crushed; perplexed, but not in despair… struck down, but not destroyed.”
—2 Corinthians 4:8–9 NIV
The shining that
now upholds,
I was terrified
we sold
for nothing in return.
As we started
to burn,
something from
the deep
began to reach
my heart.
Hope at last,
afraid it would pass—
but it never did.
And I never could
not want more
of the same.
The Name of
the King
that saved me
before I even knew
He was there—
still He was near,
outside and within.
It was worth it in
the beginning,
even if I
didn’t understand.
And the end,
walking ’round
the bend,
with stones over
my shoulders
and a heart that
carried even more boulders.
“Let us hold unswervingly to the hope we profess, for He who promised is faithful.”
—Hebrews 10:23 NIV
Now light and free,
still stumbling,
but redeemed—
and focused on who
my hope is in:
Jesus.

Guest Writer
Zachary Winchester
is a Christian poet and trauma survivor whose writing is shaped by a near-death experience, deep faith, and a journey through loss, addiction, and redemption. His work explores the tension between pain and purpose, with a central focus on the hope and healing found in Christ.


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