If your power is made perfect in weakness,
then why do I feel only
the greatness of my weakness
and do not perceive
your power here?
How long will I feel
lost in my lack
instead of found in your love?
will my faith give way
to my fear?
Could all this be
part of the process
The train is now departing.
I stand upon the platform and I wonder,
Did I choose rightly when I chose to stay?
Is this the better way?
What life would now be starting
If I had stepped aboard and joined the thunder
Of racing steel and distant storms, away
From where I stand today?
But who could say?
Life is a series of decisions,
Of written words without revisions.
I wish I never made mistakes.
I often do.
Yet on clear tracks and in collisions,
You meet our needs with good provisions.
Through all that mends and all that breaks,
You remain you.
Note: A quick Google search revealed that the line “Life is a series of decisions” has been used in many other works. While I didn’t have any specific source in mind when I decided to use that line, I recognize that the wording isn’t original to me.
Faith is stillness in the quiet
When you begin to question
Whether or not
You heard his directions correctly
When doubts grow loud
In the absence of his voice,
When fear fills the silence,
When the once clear call
Is suddenly less clear
And you cannot discern his purposes,
He is still God.
Make me the man that you want me to be
E’en if I do not want to be that man.
Teach me to trust you when I cannot see
The purpose in the details of your plan.
Help me to hope when tempted to despair
At circumstances greater than my strength,
To trust that, in the darkness, you are there
With love beyond all height, depth, width, and length.
Show me myself, and make me truly know
The greatness of my need and of your grace.
Remind me you are with me as I go,
And lead according to your path and pace.
Lord, search me, try me, know me, make me new.
Let all my life be lived in love of you.
I hide behind snooze buttons and busyness,
excuses to avoid you,
for fear of what you require of me:
Heart, soul, mind, strength,
passion, purpose, understanding, ability—
all of me,
myself in sum,
I know my life depends upon surrender,
so help my unbelief
until I sit
This poem was inspired, at least in part, by C. S. Lewis’s sermon “A Slip of the Tongue,” wherein he considers our hesitancy to draw too near to God for fear of what he may require of us, for we know that he requires complete surrender.
I make my pray’r to you. You answer, “No.”
And I don’t understand your reasoning.
I ask to stay, but you call me to go.
‘Tis daily bread with bitter seasoning.
I try to turn my grief into a gift:
My heart’s desires become my offering.
But I can’t see the rescue in the rift,
And sov’reign love feels much like suffering.
In seasons such as this, my faith is stretched,
A stretching that is needed though it hurts.
And through the test, your grace and truth are etched
Upon my heart more deeply and convert
My ignorance and fear to trust in you,
The God of love who’s making all things new.
Disorder is the common theme today,
But only when you see the surface view.
The Holy One is still upon the throne,
And he has promised to make all things new.
So neither fear the rabble nor the rot.
They will not last forever but will fade
Before the sun of judgment while God’s own
Find rest forever in the cross’s shade.
You call me to surrender,
to lay down the desires of my heart
I would rather you take them from me,
for then my part would only be
to accept what I cannot change.
To give me a choice—
that is a difficult test.
But let me be found faithful.
Help me to trade treasure
for greater treasure,
the fleeting for the lasting,
to sit through the eclipse
None who wait for you shall be put to shame.
The psalmist waited patiently for you
And then bore witness to your care and grace.
Relief followed the waiting like the dew
After a night when darkness hid your face.
Though you are never absent, we may not
Detect you in the time before the dawn.
Your promises—oft doubted, oft forgot—
Prove true, a hope long hidden, never gone.
But patience is required, for though the end
Is certain, yet it does not come too soon.
You use the time we wait to break and mend.
In silence, we learn how to sing in tune.
So hope, though time be now a source of strain.
Our waiting on the Lord is not in vain.