Most of the things we desire will fail to fulfill us.
We want but are not satisfied in gain,
And so we gain new wants to add to old.
This futile journey is an old refrain
Of wants too weak to trust the Story told.
“Our hearts are restless till they rest in thee,”
The saint once wrote, and still his words resound.
They ring from Africa across the sea,
True both on foreign and familiar ground.
For we were wrought to reckon with our ends,
To know the purpose t’ward which passion points:
Temp’ral desires call for that which transcends;
What leads to life divides marrow and joints.
O LORD, align our wanting with your will,
And turn our hearts to you and so fulfill.
Photo by Priscilla Du Preez on Unsplash
The quoted line above refers to a line from Augustine’s Confessions.
Palms outstretched in offering,
Bowing low, I meet my king.
In humility, I sing.
In the market, in the square,
Souls surround me. You are there.
Though I move, you hear my prayer.
In the darkness cold and still,
As I sit against my will,
I look up and you fulfill.
Through the music and the word,
Worship serves to undergird.
I receive and I am heard.
May my posture ever be
Tempered by eternity
As I learn to walk with thee.
Photo by Johannes Plenio on Unsplash
Thanks to Maci for suggesting the title and topic of this poem.
Theological questions can reveal blind spots in my understanding.
I neither like nor understand your “no,”
Yet neither are required for me to trust
That you make straight the way I am to go
E’en when desires give way to thirst and dust.
If you withhold no good thing from your own,
Then your withholding must be for the best.
I may feel I am utterly alone;
I know you have a purpose for this test.
The LORD will never fail. Thus it is joy
To walk the path of sorrow for a time.
The surest hope, none ever can destroy.
No valley deep can halt the upward climb.
Your love holds fast despite what eyes can see,
Thus sight always defers to faith in thee.
Photo by Jaleel Akbash on Unsplash
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He knows that you are weary.
He hears each cry and query of his own.
The battered and the bleary
Are blessed. They will behold their father’s throne.
Photo by Jake Melara on Unsplash
What is God doing in my life? And why?