Faithful Lines

I stretched out My hand

Then I stretched out My hands

I made a way

As the Living God

I made life

I stooped down

Offered you My arms

To carry you

To show you things above your ability

But instead of embrace

You ran

Determined in your own mind

To find your own way to see

But you were unable

Like the gods of old

Who neither see, nor speak, nor hear

Yet that hold fast the attention

Of the wayward heart

Why don’t you sing to Me?

Why don’t you sing to Me anymore? 

I would create a way

In the midst of the chaos

In the midst of oppression 

I would carry you

And teach you how to take solid steps

But you have made for yourselves

Tiny gods

That demand everything

Rest. In. Me.

Rest! 

Why toil after all that will not save? 

You look to your gods

And even when stowed

The reflection is still in your eyes

Limiting your vision

I require a change

I have placed you

In the wilderness

But see

There is a trickle of a stream

Learn to rely on this

And it will become a raging river

Powerful, delightful, mighty 

Able to supply and wash

Take one tiny step

And sing to Me