I look to you.
I look to you.
I look to you.
My words rise and fall,
pressured by weights too heavy.
When words fail
I look to you.
Let your word carry what I can't.
Your word pierces soul and spirit,
judging thoughts of the heart.
My words rise and fall.
Let your word carry what I can't.
Your word is alive and active,
turning darkness to light.
Your word is alive and active,
creating things not yet seen.
To turn my hurt to life. I sit and contemplate. Could it be, a reason for every hurt, every mixed conflict, moment of pain, sorrow and disillusionment, is eternal glory? Eternal glory that outweighs hurt and transforms to life?
I pause and contemplate. I try to fix my eyes on what is eternal but struggle.
Lord, be a banner over me and take me to the place you want me. Like a leaf that falls and dillydallies mid-air, I too dream to land on gentle waters, that purify the soul and unravel a renewed horizon of hope unto a new day.
Emmanuel Johnson 
