church

finding my way home to God

Writing little poems has always been my way of figuring out how I feel about things. There are days when I’m filled with all sorts of emotions, and the only way I can feel sane again is to write them all out. This poem came from one of those days. I was overwhelmed with the to-do lists in life, the multiple perceived failures on my part, and the distance between me and my goals and my loved ones. So when I entered my dorm after that long day of classes, I sat down at my computer and wrote this.

A Poet’s Prayer

My ever-present fear of failure
Again pulls me off my path of progress.
While I fall apart by the wayside,
He gently gathers my pieces,
Wraps me in His perfect love,
And offers me His shoulder
As we begin again, together, to
Climb my mountains tall.

At times He seems so distant,
Like He has left my side,
And let me travel pointlessly
Life’s many winding trails.
But He stands, watching, waiting,
Wondering as to when I will return.
For I am the one who wandered away,
And He the one who steadfastly did remain.

When I, in a moment of hopelessness,
Can’t see the mountain’s peak,
He reminds me of my beginning.
He shows me Father’s blindingly white mansions
Where, He says, we lived and learned together
As spirit children of the King.
He tells me that home in the Heavens I still have,
With that same Father and Mother who care
Most dearly for me, their precious daughter.
He says They, like He, watch and wait for me
To find my way Home again
To dwell forever by their side.

When I cry out ‘midst the pain of my trials,
Thinking that Home I never will regain,
When the requirement of perfection falls
Just too far out of my mortal grasp,
He, with His careful carpenter’s Son touch,
Wipes away the intermingled droplets
Of tears, sweat, and tribulation’s rains, and
He leans in, whispering softly,
“For you, my sweet little sister,
I descended from our Father’s side
To experience life here like you.

“I faced the wrath of angriest men,
I travelled the paths of tears,
I found myself mocked in every square,
And all I did was teach the truth
That Father loves them, His children dear.

“I bled from every pore and suffered
For all your sins I did not even commit,
So you, my sister, I could heal
And comfort day by day.
I’m acquainted your heartache, because
I too have felt that inner wrenching.
My palms are scarred for you,
Come touch, and feel, and know.
And when I hung there on that cross,
I did so filled with love.

“I promise if you’ll faithfully endure,
Trusting in my perfect, infinite, and lasting Grace
That we will someday conquer this
Daunting mountain’s peak, and once again
Together, we’ll step through the gates
Of our Celestial home in Heaven.”

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