from the collection: BE STILL
Grass: dry, brown, parched,
brittle and sharp on bare feet.
Leaves on the trees
hang limp and lifeless,
they cry out to you,
“How long, Lord?
How long must we wait
for your life-giving rain
to renew and restore us?”
My soul is withered and dry,
unmoved and unmoving,
lacking life and vitality.
My heart has grown brittle,
hard and cracked
like the sun-baked earth,
unable to love or be loved.
I cry out, “How long, Lord?
How long must I dwell in the desert?
When will I again taste the
sweetness of your water?”
Yet, I have come to understand
during times of drought,
my greatest thirst,
my greatest need and desire is for you.
When I have been squeezed dry,
stripped down, worn away
by the windblown sands of life,
you come with your gentle rain of mercy
to replenish the dry well of my soul,
quench my parched and thirsting heart,
restore me to life
so that I can once again grow and flourish.
PLEASE ENCOURAGE AUTHOR,
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