Life isn’t always easy.
hope
Despite What Eyes Can See
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
Sanctification by Faith
Bear Up
I know that he is good but do not know
What form his goodness in this time will take.
My sight is bound by barriers below.
I cannot feel the healing in the break.
Bear up, my soul. Remember all the ways
He proved his faithfulness in ev’ry test.
You do not need to see beyond the haze
In order to partake in perfect rest.
Photo by Aaron Thomas on Unsplash
Reorienting
Trust in the LORD with all your heart, and do not lean on your own understanding.
Proverbs 3:5
Some can feel like all.
Perspective and Provision
Frustrated by my failure to perceive
The movement of the invisible one
Whose work, though purposeful, leaves me undone
Till no one save the Savior can relieve
The longing my soul feels to find its home.
I both believe and struggle to believe
That hope endures because of heaven’s Son,
That fears will fade, that victory is won;
And in this moment, I cannot conceive
How this cross leads beyond a catacomb.
I see I am shortsighted, prone to think
No sign of water means no future drink.
Such circumstances hold a hollow taunt.
God is my shepherd. I shall never want.
Photo by Benjamin Davies on Unsplash
But Who Am I To Thee?
I am a novelty to most,
A treasure to but two or three,
One face amidst history’s host,
But who am I to thee?
I am an upright man to most,
A sinner to but two or three,
One saint amidst the sacred host,
But who am I to thee?
I am unworthy, more than most,
A traitor to the one-in-three,
One soul amidst a sinful host.
Oh, who am I to thee?
I am a son because the most
August of sons rose morning three
With freedom for the captive host,
For he was truly thee.
I am yours to the uttermost,
A slave no more to two or three,
One voice, known, singing with your host.
E’er more am I to thee.
Photo by youssef naddam on Unsplash
Limits
I cannot do it all today.
I cannot do it all.
In spite of what I think or say,
I still will fail and fall.
But time will ever slip away
And stress will foster disarray,
And so I cannot help but pray,
For I am very small.
Yet in my weakness, you display
Your holy wherewithal
To keep me on the narrow way.
Photo by Vlad Kutepov on Unsplash
Its Full Effect
O clarifying lack of clarity,
O beauty of this brief bewilderment,
O need that drives me to the firmament,
Grow faith in unfamiliarity.
Let suff’ring sear my sin but not my soul,
The stone-turned-flesh be softened by the flame
And purified of all not for the name,
That what is partial now would be made whole.
Endurance marks the path to character,
And character to unashamèd hope,
Sure of the unseen God by his seen grace.
We know in part, see but a car’cature
Till faith’s perspective (holy periscope)
Becomes our sight and we see face to face.
Photo by Zoltan Tasi on Unsplash
Thanks to Milly for her feedback and suggestions during the writing of this poem.
The Means and the End
True, hopes deferred may make hearts sick,
But so may hopes fulfilled.
And comfort for a smold’ring wick
May not be what it willed.
For often hopes transfix upon
The means, and so detach
The running from the marathon,
The sewing from the patch.
And what was meant to foster growth
In fear and love of God
Becomes instead a broken oath
Upon the paths we trod.
Tis better far to see the gifts
In light of he who gives
Lest graces be turned into rifts,
Nouns turned to adjectives.
Remember heaven ne’er forgets
Its own. God e’er shall be
Sure hope in spite of fears and frets,
The anchor in the sea.
Photo by Kirill Pershin on Unsplash
as i learn to walk 