Believe

Waiting for my flight at the Sydney airport. Wrote a short poem inspired by my friends in Hope UC Central Coast, Australia. Thought about the words after seeing a photo of the word “believe” on the church’s wall.

Somewhere the sun is rising
Somewhere is a growing seed
Somewhere a journey’s starting
Believe

Somewhere someone’s overcoming
Somewhere someone’s finding home
Somewhere the answer’s arriving
Believe

Here in our hearts, our hearts
Where Love resides, we recognize
That when we pray, heaven parts
And fear departs, for us
For us who believe

Here in our hearts, our hearts
Where Love resides, we recognize
That when we kneel, grace imparts
An eternity that starts, for us
For us who believe

Somewhere a child is forming
Somewhere the future begins
Somewhere is hope unfailing
Believe

Please Teach Me

He leads the humble in what is right, and teaches the humble His way.
–¬†Psalms 25:9¬†

Please teach me this one lesson that always eludes me when I need it most.
Please help me learn the better way, exalted and not brought low.
Please show me Your greatness every morning that I may start with awe.
May I start with Your majesty before I seek my own beauty – as I am prone.
Forgive my inclination to reject and debate those who bring correction.
Help me see love in careful attention, not judgement and rejection.
But I must admit my soul struggles with the thought of being found wanting.
So fill me with Your love as You discipline me, remind me of Your affection.
For out in a world of lions and she-wolves is a punishment so severe.
They lure me with acceptance, use me, empty me, and leave me with fear.
But Your rod, the rod of the Good Shepherd, though all its blows sting,
Is a rod I have learned to trust, so in my heart’s pain I sing.
How beautiful the hand that holds the instrument of correction.
How beautiful to know that hand belongs to You.
For once humility arrives, now both palms take hold of my heart,
And here I find a sanctuary of all that is trustworthy and can be relied.
How beautiful that hand that holds the instrument of correction.
How beautiful to know that hand belongs to You.