O Sacred Head Now Wounded, O God Now Satisfied

I’ve been wading in “the gray afternoon of the soul.” It’s not as dramatic as St. John of the Cross’ “Dark Night of the Soul.” It’s like being stuck in a thick fog with no light cutting through to show the way back to sunshine and simplicity. It’s been a season of aching over brokenness—my own, others, our polarized country and churches, and the horrors flashing on the nightly news