When I was just a little child
I wondered that my heart should beat.
Odd, my lungs should fill, expand,
And then allow that air retreat.
I’ve never belonged upon this crust;
Born a dead, old soul.
My body, ill-designed for life,
Has never functioned whole.
I’ve lodged arguments, filed complaints.
What great polemics I’ve intoned!
In fear and dread, beat at Your breast
With tantrums I have thrown.
But You, Eternal Wisdom,
Chose to plant in me
A spark of life I could not douse
Within time’s raging sea.
Through all the pain of here to there,
And all attacks of men,
You’ve sustained the life You gave
That’s tarried here, in skin.
I’ve never understood Your ways,
But I understand they’re grand.
I’ve never found my niche in life,
But the one within Your hand.
I finally see. I trust You now
Due to repetitions of Your grace.
My fists have lost the fury
That once beat You to turn Your face.
Again, You’ve planted life within
A frame never designed for such,
But You’ve always shown, inside Your hand
Even so little can still be much.
Where there’s life, there’s hope,
But I cannot give what is not mine.
You alone are life itself,
And every gift You give, divine.
I’ve tasted hard truths, hard providence,
Melt from bitter into sweet.
I’ve seen You fashion broken bits
Of sorrow into joy complete.
Here I am, my mortal eyes
Cannot see what You will do,
But I believe; hide my unbelief
Somewhere beyond my view
So I won’t ask about my sin,
Or if You even care.
I know, wherever life exists,
Your breath is moving there.
viewingcamelot 
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