You sing in hope And waiting sigh With eyes peeled To the sky Clouds rolling in, And would they break With blessings or Will they take? If I sing well Would God not hear And pack grey clouds Full of cheer? A strange surprise, All wrapped in black Might shine
Due to the pain that was worsening in my hands and arms I have been on as much of a writing break as my self control has been able to succeed in. I have of course penned some lines here and there, and this poem was written in fragments, usually
They say “Stage four, There’s not much more To do for you.” “A pack of pills Prolong your ills, We’ll numb the pain, But not much gain Under the sun Is left. Just run… Your best.” “My best?” you say, “Is this the way All sputtering To go? Say No.”
Did you think To put you in a furnace Would not scorch your skin? To come out gold With easy glee And not the surfacing of sin? Or that boiling water hot Would like a warm bath Scathe you not? Like sinking in so comfortably To fire should come easily?
What will I do with satan’s thorn Lodged deep in weakest access point? No pill to take No treatment makes It well, no method has supplied A cure, Steps stumble; Backward falls The soldier, boldly with a limp But limping on He goes, he goes, A carefully crafted grin All
The book of Job shocks its reader at almost every point. We avoid it, we are confused by it, terrified by it, scandalized by it, and certainly if we’re honest- we want no part in it. Who would? These are nice lessons for Job- nice lessons to read about- but
“Skin for skin,” said that heartless snake “Though land and kin his God may take, But Job replies ‘Blessed be God’ Face down upon the tear soaked sod ‘He gave and He may take away’ Touch flesh! Will he respond that way?
I read this poem probably five years ago and have come back to it many times. It’s easy to see the loving care of God when He answers our prayers the way we want them to be answered. Sometimes we pray “Your will be done” but in our hearts we