Reckoning myself rescued

Return to your rest, my soul, for the Lord has been good to you. ⏤ Psalm 116:7

Death surrounds me: violence, hatred, dishonesty, pride, arrogance. Into this world I was born. And from its patterns I have been rescued. I will reckon myself an observer of this death, not its participant. I dwell in a consulate, an outpost of eternal life on the edges of Sheol. There’s a Welcome mat at the door.