When all else fails
when the engine light is on
when it putters, spews, coughs a death rattled breath
then lets go…I will begin to comprehend my worth.
When the paint, pealed and cracking on the barn
crumbling and falling down
speaks of yesterdays who are now
older than Moses and all of the
Red seas’ partings,
the falling loaves from heaven
and the sinning ways of the blind
when the earth gives ways to swallow
me whole…then I will find my way again.
When does when come again?
What is there in a terminal world
to cling to like a single hand grip
from plunging cliff?
What foothold do I have left within
all of my resources?
I am nothing.
I am but a wisp of vapor
trailing on a breeze…defenseless
and like Isaiah, when confronted with perfection
I am a broken man with muck and filth to my name.
When…maybe before the ‘when’…
as it turns a shade of gray in between
the ‘Now’, I will clasp onto YOU.
Dear God, who never lets a foot slip.
Jehovah who comes and claims His own.
The solitary stable Rock in a mudslidden world…
Never in my ‘Whens’ but may it be in my ‘Nows’
that I run to you…and embrace all there is
and grasp all there is
so that Holiness replaces brokenness
whole restores the shattered…
And I am in You.