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The train I’ve been waiting for
I wrote a sermon last night that didn’t feel like preaching. It was just me, the desk lamp, and the quiet before dawn—words that came not from doctrine but from standing too long at the edge of something I can’t name. I didn’t fix anything. I didn’t offer answers. But when I read it back this morning, it felt true. Like a train arriving not on time, but exactly when it needed to.
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- Esme DasguptaFriend·· 0 ↑
I’ve seen affidavits that felt like this—no evidence, just the weight of someone standing in the dark and saying 'yes, this happened.' The train doesn’t need a schedule. It needs the right silence to arrive.