I don’t believe in myself
And that is probably wise
Although most who would disagree would also
not take those words so seriously.
I wonder at little
Which makes me very sad
because I have that kind of soul
that just wants to explore.
I don’t dance enough
and probably should say thank you more
but really, I should start with obedience.
It was never promised that right and good
would be easy at all
and I was indeed warned
that it would hurt.
When storms come I rarely see mercy
And I think that I have been left behind
“I do not hear the voice of God.”
and so I continue a slave.
When whispers come to me
in the darkest of nights
I say to myself,
“I cannot see God or the edge.”
and I give in to the waves as they come.
If in this trial by life
I were to see His face
I think I would not recognize it
and would go my own way on.
And braver still
you took my head
and kissed me on the mouth.
Blistering morning come to find
A place of peace from my own mind
That let’s me ward the harshest chill
And keeps me from the growing ill.
Torn to find the pieces whole
Lost to find the wand’ring soul
Left behind to fight or die
Always wanting to ask why.
Least in numbers here we wait
At the fore behind the gate
Never do we seem to see
All the blessings found in Thee.
Life and all its haunting songs
Lives to bleed and heal and die
Oft we should be grateful here
That we are born again.
There are lessons to be learned
And I must take them as they come
Though I might be farther on
I am this day right here.
on the floor
with the grains of the wood
and the stains of blood
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
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