Bring Her Home

Pain sometimes feels like two things

Like a vacuum that sings 

and pulls you into darkness all around

But also like a sharpened blade piercing within

I can’t identify with your pain

I can’t think nor imagine the way this evil will make every effort to drain

your joy and your hope

so to cope…

Though you may think it is the end of a burning rope

As you held onto your dear daughter

My my, how you fought for her

Think of how God fought for you

How He knew from the beginning of time 

that you would step out of rhyme

Born into stumbling as with all of mankind

He knew that your flesh would harden your hearts

And as seen in the arts

So your apparent beauty would fade

and age into exhaust to your God

He knew that it was His Son He would lose

Momentarily then if with the church He could have you

I hope you see the incredible cost

Jesus Christ ushered Himself onto the cross

Dear brothers and sisters in Him

I can’t identify with your pain

and I may just be a toe and you an arm

and whenever anyone seeks to harm

our body, the church, purchased by Christ

We cry out together

His blood hit the dirt feeding the price

and you- I feel your pain 

I feel your sorrow 

Far be it from me

To not weep with those who weep

But may it be further then

that I wouldn’t point you to hope

so to cope…

You have not reached the end of a burning rope

Who cares about political rules and regulations, acts and 

impersonations of God. Yes Romans 13

But look at the scene- far be it from the American dream

Who cares that she has some connection to a family tree

All I care about is God’s decree

And see we pay no fee to scream in the streets 

Like the tares among wheat

We fight pretense 

and that ancient dream

White picket fence

And we don’t picket since we need to pray for the rulers

pray for the leaders

pray for the native or the ones who don’t have God’s meter

His standard of right, His standard of wrong

But hey as we pray, listen to Joseph’s song

Evil realities

Horrendous tragedies

God’s purpose masked

In the midst of calamity 

All things

All things

For the good glory of the generous gospelizing God and King

Though I can’t identify with you 

I see the chasm between what you may know and what you feel

There is a bridge, let the fog pass

See clearly then it will be at last

The decrees of God though we may never know

Yet, in your pain

In Lexi’s,

In the churches,

In mine,

He knows and His knowledge will never grow

Always knowing all

Always loving 

Hope feels like two things: The softest pillow to fall on

And The strength to move beyond

I can identify with your hope

Because our God is causing all things

whether good or bad

in the foggy haze

For His glory & our good 

From the ancient of Days

Always.

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