Great God who gives good

Abundantly–tonight help me

Think on how You have said

You will grant sleep to those

You love and replace the burden

Of all those who come, so weary.

–

The ebbs of the day, the week

Have crept back to the shore.

This is my mind, my heart:

Drawing close to the shelter of You,

Slipping forth a tired hand

To cling to each promise of Yours.

In the cries of a child, Lord, I hear what I need

To be mindful of, to reset my soul:

There is a place for sorrow and joy, dual simplicity

(The delighted scream and the mournful howl).

And so I am reminded today to speak to You freely,

To pour out all the sweet and bitter You already know.

All-seeing One, what’s it like to view

Everything, ever, all at once, like You do?

And when I’m impatient to understand now,

Isn’t that me wishing I could be You somehow?

But aren’t You the wisest when You don’t allow

Me to grasp all which I wished I knew?

For You know my limits and You love me so–

So I’ll trust Your boundaries which help my view grow.

I have to keep asking You

Because my needs, worries, thoughts

Resurface like hallow plastic balls

I try to push under the water.

But my asking–again–is no surprise to You.

–

Thank You.

–

I have to keep thanking You

Because Your goodness, fullness, all-ness

Reappear like clouds and shade

Shielding me from the blaze of doubt.

And my thanking–again–befits Your Name.

–

Bless You.

–

Let me keep on–

As You keep on.

Yes.

Know and shelter me.

For Your glory.

Hands

Can be open or closed, hardened or soft–as can be

Hearts.

–

Give me open hands

And a heart of liquid gold.

Even if that means

I just relax, stop fighting–

Because I’ve finally come to see

You always have the greatest plan.

–

Hearts

Can be trusting, filled, mended, moved–as can be

Hands.

Sing, oh earth, of the goodness of God–

Let creatures leap and dance for joy,

And rocks stand firm and mountains move–

All by command of His great voice.

I, too, shall sing and lift my heart:

In praise for light He has upheld,

In thanks for grace from which hope starts,

In awe of life He fills so well.

Yes, earth and I have this to prove:

How He has formed our every part

So that we can point to the Source,

Invite the world to heed His call.

Sometimes I don’t know what to say.

But You already know what I need.

So I will sit by You, quietly,

And taste Your presence, wholly-sweet–

And know that’s what’s best anyway.

To the One so familiar with sorrow and stings:

Help us know Your nearness in our suffering.

Help us glimpse a shred of the picture You see;

Help us look, in faith, for the goodness You’ll bring–

–

Yes, even You are bringing right now

And have already brought here somehow,

That every tear will carve a path for mercy

And every sigh will open deep for blessings.

–

But not that we should crave our comfort only.

Would that You teach us to want most Your glory:

Your name to be, forever, lifted upward–

Our praise in testifying echoes long heard.

If I could say–only–“thanks”–endlessly

With all my might and every breath

And every moment I have left

To walk this earth, it wouldn’t suffice

To show Your heart how much I’ve prized

Your ceaseless blessings poured down-over–

The last one uncounted before there’s another.

But, still, now, Lord, let me praise You–so freely.

Have mercy on us in our plight

Of fallenness, yet set our sights

On righteousness, and help us crave

Your holiness. And make us brave

Enough to try, clothed in Your strength,

To leave behind excuses–weak–

Which tempt us to resist this growth.

Oh, Mercy: please define our worth!