Though it pierce me in the heart
And draw blood in ocean waves
Though it tell me sweet sweet things
That there is love for me.
Though it tell me I must change
though it tell me I must move
though it tell me I must act
though it tell me I must wait.
Though my ears are deaf
and my tongue is dumb
truth is what I seek
and of course its love.
Taking time to listen
I might just hear a sound
And so I go to find you now
I pray you’ll be around.
Here in the bright sun
With the hot wind at day
And the cold wind at night
With the sand
And the snakes,
Here the harshness speaks volumes
Speaks words we would never want to say
Speaks of our hearts and to our hearts
And here (in this wilderness)
Is the voice of God.
Let my heart be still
And let the words ring clear
Whether a whisper or a shout
From a friend
or an enemy
Let me listen in this place
and let what is spoken
sit in my bones
and may my mind and heart understand
What my soul has already learned.
We have all been many places
even if we never leave home
and what we look for
this is not inside of ourselves.
Led around by one
Who was being led around by God
Even though she did not know it
And so certain memories were brought back to mind
And I was alone with them
While with her
As if she was not there
But there was small talk
And joking
Which seemed a bit of a relief
to her
even though
it definitely did not mean
that I was OK…
Listen well to that voice
Act swiftly as you hear it
Let the outcome go.
Preach to me preacher
For the godless comedian speaks to my pain
Preach to me preacher
For I am alone
In the midst of our people
I am alone
God’s word cuts deep
And I do not think I can bear it
Preach to me preacher
And let me be hewn asunder.
Sometimes when you open up
A person doesn’t respond
(and they certainly don’t open up to you)
And you feel exposed
And vulnerable
And at least a little hurt.
Sometimes when a person opens up to you
You don’t respond
(and you have no idea what to say)
And you don’t know what to do
And you can tell
That not saying anything hurt.
Looking up I saw the tent
Of blue and gold amidst the white
And in that movement of my neck
I began a different sight.
I did not know that you could see
In diff’rent ways beyond your eyes
And with that single lifting head
I could fin’lly see the skies.
From here
on the floor
with the grains of the wood
and the stains of blood
and whiskey
from here is where I rise.
Splinters in the wood
and scratches all around
become the grain of life
and so we find a path
and pattern
in the most unlikeliest of places–
on this floor.
There are lines that speak of order
even down so low as this
and it is God’s sweet grace
to open our eyes that we might see
the lines beneath the whiskey
and dirt
and blood.
That time you heard the voice of God
and it was two words–
what was it like?
Because we cannot handle
nearly as much
as we think.
He has His messengers
and uses them
and so often we miss every word,
especially when it’s only two.
A Soul's Walk 