Disorder

Anxious Minds

/ joethewaller / Leave a comment

O Lord, be merciful when I reduce
Pray’rs to compulsions and repeat the lines
Like incantations till my mind lets loose.
I love you, but obsession undermines
Abiding and I get stuck in the steps,
Working to breathe instead of breathing free,
Approaching rev’rence, bypassed to precepts.
I struggle not to strive. But you know me.
You formed me in the womb and there could see
Each struggle I would face. I’m understood.
When I can’t do, you give me grace to be.
When all feels wrong, you still can make it good.
Remind me of this truth when scruple binds:
The Maker’s still at work in anxious minds.

Photo by Daniel Joshua on Unsplash

The Music

/ joethewaller / Leave a comment

isaac-ibbott-198404-unsplash

The dissonance resounds
As all attempt to sing
A song of their own making.
Disorder now abounds
For all forget the king
(A fatal undertaking).
We sing our dirge till death
Yet sing with all our might,
Our very voices breaking.
With ev’ry selfish breath,
We shrink away from light
To try to stop the aching.
But light shines in the dark,
And dark cannot resist.
The kingdom is advancing.
There is a holy ark.
With joy, we may subsist.
Salvation comes with dancing.
Amidst the rebel choir,
A melody is heard
That rings throughout creation.
The true composer’s ire
Fell full upon the word:
Perfect propitiation.
The ransomed sing his song
Now knowing it involves
The rescue of the dying.
Though so much now seems wrong,
The song at last resolves:
Unending glorifying.

Photo by Isaac Ibbott on Unsplash