Waiting

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.


Photo by Aaron Burden on Unsplash

A Prayer to Lead

matthias-778306-unsplash.jpg

Their eyes now look to me.
I wonder what they see.
Do they detect the doubts and fears,
Perceive the weights, the hidden tears?
Or do they only see
A car’cature of me:
A man of wisdom, love, and care,
Firm in the faith and full of pray’r?
Lord, if they look to me,
Let me e’er look to thee.
Be evident in all I do
That they, through me, better see you.
Let me be all for thee,
More you and less of me,
A servant serving all around
That they in love would e’er abound.


Photo by Matthias on Unsplash

Comparison

I wonder if comparison is a nicer-sounding expression for envy. When I read the Ten Commandments in Exodus 20, I can quickly pass over verse 17 under the assumption that I don’t have any problems with desires for the wealth or the family of my neighbors. In fact, I tend to read this verse with specifics in mind, comforting myself that I don’t desire my friend’s Xbox or his car or whatever else he may have. I tell myself envy isn’t an issue for me. But then I begin to compare. Continue reading

Wonder

You spoke, and all that is began to be,
Yet you are uncreated, without end.
The voice with which you rule eternity
Is present in the whisper of the wind.
In sov’reignty, you raise and lower kings.
No power can contest your ruling right.
For you are he of whom creation sings,
The power that ordains the day and night.
And yet you clothe the flowers of the ground,
And yet you feed the sparrows of the sky.
You care for your creation all around
So much you sent your sinless son to die.
It matters not how much I may rehearse:
Your greatness, God, I cannot grasp in verse.