Struggle 

Poetry

There’s a little extra pain in my tears

A little more sorrow in my heart

The struggle is getting the best of me 

Each day I’m not sure how to start

One breath at a time

I slowly move forward and pray

That I’ll see something, hear a word

That sounds different than it did yesterday

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Usefulness

Poetry

I love the place I’ve found

I’m thrilled with the changes I’ve seen

I love that any residual pain

Continues to sharpen me

More

Poetry

I’ve been told about You 

I’ve seen glimpses yet only a few

In certain seasons, You’ve held me close

Now as I see more, I realize how little I knew

 

You are more than I thought

 

More powerful

More beautiful

More gracious

More unique

 

More unpredictable

More kind

More loving towards me

 

The following is a condensed excerpt from “The Jesus I Thought I Knew” by Philip Yancey

“The more I studied Jesus, the more difficult it became to pigeon-hole him…..He urged obedience to the Mosaic law while acquiring the reputation as a lawbreaker.  He could be stabbed by sympathy for a stranger, yet turn on his best friend with the flinty rebuke ‘Get behind me, Satan!’  He had uncompromising views on rich men and loose women, yet both types enjoyed his company.  One day miracles seemed to flow out of Jesus; the next day his power was blocked by people’s lack of faith.”

A Word on Grief

Poetry

Please tell me there will be

another season around the bend

Tell me this heartache

will come to an end

 

So far its ceasing

has come and gone

And quickly reappears

before too long

 

Most may think

I should have already moved on

Truth is, I have.

But the pain’s still not gone

 

Matthew 5:4

Blessed are those who mourn, for they shall be comforted.

Revelation 21:4

He will wipe away every tear from their eyes, and death shall be no more, neither shall there be mourning, nor crying, nor pain anymore, for the former things have passed away.

Psalm 34:18

The LORD is close to the brokenhearted and saves those who are crushed in spirit.

Blind Spots

Poetry

I have a few blind spots

Where my vision’s unclear

I look and I squint

Still clarity is not there

Strength here is gone

Self will won’t heal my sight

These are the places 

I must surrender the fight
I must surrender my will

In the places I can’t see

And trust there’s a Savior

Looking out and caring for me
John 9:10-11

10 “How then were your eyes opened?” they asked. 11 He replied, “The man they call Jesus made some mud and put it on my eyes. He told me to go to Siloam and wash. So I went and washed, and then I could see.”

2 Corinthians 12:8-10
8Three times I pleaded with the Lord to take it away from me. 9But he said to me, “My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness.” Therefore I will boast all the more gladly about my weaknesses, so that Christ’s power may rest on me. 10That is why, for Christ’s sake, I delight in weaknesses, in insults, in hardships, in persecutions, in difficulties. For when I am weak, then I am strong.

A New Home

Poetry

Then He took my hand

And led me far away

He tended to my wounds

He taught me how to pray

And when an opportunity came to go

I didn’t want to leave

I had fallen in love with this resting place

Where He showed me freedom and peace

So we agreed I could stay!

This was now my new home

Living with Him at my side

With no more need to roam

Psalm 147:3

He heals the brokenhearted and bandages their wounds.