Am I intentional?

What’s my direction,

But tracing circles

With no intersection.

Is it where I ‘m looking?

Will I find it at all?

Will I ever run the race

Beyond this crawl?

What redeems the time

From routine’s rocky crags?

Where is my battle cry,

My crusader’s flag?

I plan to speak,

But instead grow nervous

To lift my voice

Is to leave Your service.

Everyday victories accumulate

Like so much scattered debris.

I hope. I wait for You to make

Some tangible use of me.

My restraint suffocates:

A foundational intrusion.

Just speak; Your voice

Clarifies confusion.

If these words should fall,

Clutter the floor, dry leaves in wind,

Until silence drapes over all,

Will I delight to see the end?

If my throat should close,

Thin breaths, music diminished,

A tune the world no longer knows,

Will I rejoice when it’s finished?

If I should achieve my anonymity,

Cut off from humanity entire,

With a seal of indemnity,

Will it still be all I desire?

If these tears should drop

For a brother lost, a sister broken,

Would I want the flow to stop,

Or leave one truth unspoken

If it could mend?

Before my eyes the sun goes down

On another day, another season.

Planted still, in this old town

Perhaps for some mysterious reason,

But for now the wind is enough.

Tonight, to me, the world seems young.

One story, one song playing through.

Even those lines yet unsung,

Have already been by traced by You.

What will happen between these breaths?

The orange sun slips on.

Wind reminds me: seasons change.

This dusk prepares another dawn;

Routine indwells the strange,

And I ride the ebb and flow.

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.

I know what being Your orphan has given me;

Open roads, open fields, open air.

Music that’s mine, and mine alone,

While miles of maps pass through my hair.

Breaths of beauty from a distance,

Taken, cherished, but never consumed.

Grief left where it lay;

I never stayed to see it entombed.

In the dark, when tears crept in,

I hid my weeping from all cold-hearted.

You heard, You always have,

But unlike all, You never departed.

I only laughed for You;

When we danced, we danced alone.

I in rags, but no one near

To condemn me, nor condone.

I found my whole identity

In the love story that ensued;

I broke, beat You, and fled-

You ever passionately pursued.

You taught me how to see the world

Through Your eyes, till fear submerged

Into the fathomless depths of love,

And from all chaos, cosmos emerged.

My most precious treasures they repudiated,

Mocked, as they mocked You,

But those foolish trinkets, other’s trash,

Were infused with healing truth.

So I ran from those who wielded truth

As slaver’s whips and daggers cloaked,

While You pursued to tend my wounds

And mend the bones the righteous broke.

Now You ask me for my keys,

My running shoes, my best defense.

You’ve asked me to commit to these

Who’ve never offered recompense.

And I know that I will yield to You,

Exit the fish belly some upcoming hour,

But only because we don’t wield the truth;

You wield us in Your perfect power.

And when these wound again,

Please still remember me then.