To My Fellow Believer,
I know I should not be asking this of you, because this is the sort of thing a person has to figure out for themselves...but could you carry something for me?
I am not really sure when or why, but I often feel empty.
I have always been told that we are all created in the image of someone who loves us, but if our feeble minds cannot understand the depth and height of such love,
then how can God expect us to comprehend what he tells us?
I have always been told that Faith is a thing- You must never lose in life.
But what, do you say, is Faith, exactly, After you explain Jesus' selfless sacrifice?
I don't mean to be frank, but tell me, I ask- What is the secret to knowing? That everything will be alright, Even when your aces are showing?
I feel so lost and empty and weak... but when I reach out for a hand, I try to reach for the moon and the stars, And my feet are stuck deep in the sand.
I think, I first, must inform you Of that which is tried and true. I grew up in a home, where we prayed to Our God, until our faces turned blue.
I always had Faith that all things were made right when He paid our debt on the Cross, but- I know I must say that, honestly... Of late, I have been feeling at quite a loss.
The hymns we sing- Are not doing that thing that I am told they should do. I don't feel a pang, an overwhelming hunger, to be closer to someone- do you?
This surely sounds like I do not believe in the Creator of Heaven and Earth, but allow me to assure you, my friend, my sir, That I have not forgotten my rebirth:
I do believe that there's a God who loves, with more power and being than you; But, I don't understand, to what extent, The things to say or do.
So carry the doubt that weighs more than words- or bricks, or mountains of sand.
Carry, for me, the uncertainty that screams
Again. and, Again:
"You don't believe, because if you did, you wouldn't think twice of your sin!"
What is doubt? is it sin? Can it's victims be revived? Tell me, fellow believer, Of what is this demon derived?
I cannot convey, to what extent, I searched the depths of my soul- In order to prove to myself: He's alive.
And, now, there's a story to be told:
I awoke one night, To a warm, glowing light. I felt a strange presence near.
Was it a ghost? Or, an angel, perhaps?
No, I believe it was: My Savior.
He smiled at me; and his eyes, glistening with his Grace and Mercy, Were full of the sorrow in the world that night- For Him, I felt grand gramercy.
Now, I tell you, believer, That there is a God high above- who loves me.
And there is nothing down here on Earth, That will ever stand between me... And the Powers that be.
Washed in the Blood,