Can you hear me Lord?
Do you hear the anxious voice of my thoughts,
drifting soundlessly on the breeze?
Do you sense my desolation
Will you be my consolation?
Can you spare time from counting stars
to listen to my litany
of self-centred inadequacy
or do you have better things to do?
Pop by later if you have time, Lord.
I might find time to share my monologue of misery
with the creator of eternity.
Seasons in disorder confuse and bewilder
Trapping me in indecisiveness.
Watching where the wind blows
Waiting for the rain to fall
Daring for the sun to shine
and then moaning at what ever you send!
How long before I learn to count my blessings
Before I learn to see you in the mundane
To search for your watermark in the drops of rain
To discern the hand you offer
through the actions of a stranger
To accept the tough and the easy
and be assured that you are walking with me
each faltering step I take.
Urging me on,
guiding me back,
leading me on
loving me through it all.
