Poetry

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How can it be ...?

That You knew the end from the beginning,
and I don't know my next step?

That Your same strong hand that has sovereignly slain thousands of armies,
becomes so gentle just to wipe away my tears?

That You would cause the wicked to be restless,
yet You are pleased to speak peace to my spirit?

That though You're surrounded by the voices of countless angels,
You delight in my praise?

That enveloped in the untold beauties of Heaven,
You desire to reside here in my heart?

That the voice that causes all of hell to tremble,
would fall so softly in my ears?

That years of bondage created by my own desires,
You loosed in an instant?

That I can intently refuse to hear You,
but You forgive it all when I call on Your name?

That I have stood in such vile disgraces,
yet You want me to sit at Your feet?

That I carelessly caused You so much pain,
but when I hurt, Your arms are swift to comfort me?

That while I was faithful only to flesh and vain idols,
You; the Most Holy One, were yet faithful to me?

That I have mocked and laughed while pushing You aside,
but You bind my brokenness when others do the same to me?

That using the free will You gave; I selfishly destroy the life and gifts You gave,
and still You work it out for my good?

That You know where I've been, what I've done and why I've done it,
and You've still given me the undeserved privilege of having Your call upon my life?

That I find it so difficult to live for You,
and You chose to die for me even still?

That You can take all of the pain and every single scar,
and turn them into my unending thankfulness?

You must be God, and You really do love me.

C.M. Knobloch

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