Timing

Sometimes
I get caught
intellectually
between a rock
and a hard place
and I feel like
I am the only one
and that this never happens
to my enemies.

And I forget that
God hears
and I feel the world continue to spin
When I just want it to
stop.

And I just want to figure it out
but the world does not stop for me
or anyone else
and if it is happening to me
It has happened before
to others.

And I want it to stop
and I don’t want to feel
but I am swept along
carried by waves I could never hope to fight
and I am tired.

I don’t want to have small faith
but I do
and the road to big faith
is very hard.

Everyone knows this
in their head
(or at least they should)
but to know a thing in the heart as well
that is another story
and though I love stories
the best ones are awful to live through.

If it does not seem hopeless,
What is your rescue?
If it is not darker than the darkest night,
Then what will the dawn mean to you?

My bones, my bones,
my weary weary bones
let there be a voice
let there be a hand
let there be a hope
in this darkest of nights.

A Glimpse of Hell Now Very Present

We delved in dark to flee the light
And did not trust from up above
and though so close to victory
we jumped right down the hole.

Our screams descended fast as night
And life was gone before we blinked
And landing with a crunch of bones
We felt the pain of sin.

We thought that we could ease our pain
And make it flee just for a while
and so we made it grow again
And now a monster lives with us.

Down in the hole we are not heard
except perhaps by God himself
but he had warned us many times
and we jumped down the same.

Our cries are mute to most above
The heavens a fading memory
And as we think on what we’ve done
Hope seems very small.

A Burning In My Bones

I suffer under the burden of my own introspection
The weight of which is like unto lead
Or perhaps in Egypt I carry bricks
With every thought I have.
I have been hard on myself when I should have been soft
And soft when I should have been hard.
And the feeling of failure that snatches my joy
Is another brick thrown on my back.
“Have mercy on me!”
I cry in the evening
“Sustain me…”
I whisper each morn.
There has been a cleaning,
a beating,
a molding,
a forming,
it is a fire that burns me
my mistakes burn like fire
each success is a flame.
And everywhere I am consumed.

“The weight of which,”
I collapse.
Do not delay
Long expected king.

I have been to market and to church
and in the coffee house I have discussed
all of knowledge that I knew
and then I took a sip.

There is a burning.

At the concert hall I sat down
And listened to the works of man
and all I heard was God’s own voice
in every perfect note.

There is a fire.

If I sing in our church choir
will I feel the hand of God?
Or am I filled with fool’s desire
to trip and fall again.

Let me be so consumed.