Me: Don’t I deserve better?….
After all I’ve suffered, why is my success still deterred?
Even with the trials and throes,
My life is still, sorrows prose…
Jesus: Dear, dear Simon…..my dear lad…You have not learned enough…
Your sight is still bleak…. I show You a sea,
And You only see a Trough…..
Son, I know the road is rough,
but You see, Simon, I built You tough
…So then, dear Simon, when You Hear my voice in hard times, reassuring,
Do not rebuff….
Me: How can I not?…
The trials I understand, but You never Said that they’ll spring out without Cause?….
And with such force?!!! … .
The future is so far away, I can only Dream about how bright it’ll be….
But You sound so sure….
Pain is a must, but why is mine always so strong?…..
You said I’ll make it,
So what is all the circus of throes for?
Jesus: Simon, how can you not see,
I made you perfect, to be all you can dream,
If only you’ll just believe,
You’ll move every mountain your eyes can see…
Breakdown every wall and trample every gate with your feet…
Me: We’ve all made mistakes,
And our whim is to blame…
But why should my life be a chronicle Of disdain
Pain after pain…day after day,
Season after dreadful season,
After the scorching sun,
Comes the flooding rain,
Woes in continual,
Sorrow and futile efforts in everlasting connubial…
Jesus: Look past the stumbling stones,
And gaze on the horizon of hope,
The still land lies fallow, until tended by hands before the sown seeds grow,
Trust, Simon, is all you need to show,
Israel thought all was lost…moments before Manna came like snow,
Doubt only begets grief…
In this fertile heart of yours, do not let it grow…
The land is a desert?
Even Israel turned to crafts of gold just before I made fountains out of stones…
Patience is a virtue, seek it and you find fulfillment’s abode…
The torrents of rain, whose goal is to cleanse,
I send with Love, and tidings of fairer times ahead…
The fiercer the fire, the finer the steel,
There’s always a lesson for every pain you feel…
With the battles you fight, I will make you bold,
I wrote your story, and it’s a triumph over woes,
I await you, Simon, when you’ve fought the good fight….
Do come home…..