My Abba I love you, show you my hurts,
my arm that’s aching, my shoulder that stabs
whenever I use it, or put on my shirts,
lean on my elbow, or clean up or dab
something in front of me. But I recall
this body’s a gift from you to me now.
You mentioned another more permanent thrall,
a body that will serve better somehow!
I love that you made this whole world - and dust.
It matters to you, and me more-so as
your child so small, learning largely to trust.
And so, we’ll grow - as our big brother has!
Unlike a brother who tried to secrete
things for himself, and would not let eyes meet
with others in openness sharing his loss
with all the world as Christ shared in our cross.
Here is my pain, and un-comfort as well.
Here are the fears - that I won’t play much more,
let alone work. I’ll be “crangry” and yell.
Push people away. God, oh help - it’s sore!
So thank you for each chance to look and see
your goodness dancing with great energy,
and sometimes to speak out, even to sing
of good that’s present, though evil’s a thing!
I’m learning to trust you, and to speak truth
out of the HESED love (that sources youth,
as well as wisdom, and beauty forsooth),
that what I say will match, and has some cooth.
No comments:
Post a Comment
Thanks for adding to the conversation...