Calling While There is Time

Life troubles my mind.
It unsettles my soul . . . I fret.

Fog shrouds the morning sun – like doubts that dampen joy.
The news confounds my faith that God is up.
Or real.
Yet, feeble faith, and wobbly hope that He is, is what I have.

God, I say – no, believe – is like the sun
I cannot see right now —
In time, His heat will burn away the fog . . .
but, not me, I hope.

He catches all who fall.
Look up –
He leaves His number in the sky, His extension in His word.

I could not see . . . I would not look.
Falling was fun . . . it was fine,
Until the ground rose up.

He answers all who call.
Listen – Was that His voice I heard in the quiet of all I broke?

But, I could not hear . . . I would not listen.
Cacophony was fine . . . it was fun,
Until I heard death remind me of an appointment.

God seeks, He searches, He runs to greet unlikely souls –
one I never thought I’d be.
Yet here I am . . . too often struggling to break free:
I still want to go my own way.
Until I am lost again.

To read, to believe the Word is light –
enough to see the next step out of this day’s thicket
Is again my morning’s choice – What’s yours?

To You, O Lord, I lift up my soul;
 in you I trust O my God. ~ Psalm 25:1-2

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