Resting Place

Let my heart follow yours from place to place
for it finds solace nowhere else.
My head is faint from tirelessly seeing,
My hand, clamped shut, in a frail attempt to defend myself from the world that wants me always moving, never stopping to think,
My knees give away from the one too many burdens I took on.
Will you be my rest, Lord?
You work is my retreat.

Source

How strange it is,
That in searching for you to wit's end, my mind has only been more renewed
That in walking for you, my feet find reason to never stop
That in seeing you, I have realized my blindness and have learned to see again
That in letting you in, my heart finally found space for the world.
How strange you are, Lord.
That in being lost in you, I feel found and perfectly in place
That in drowning in your love, I desire air no more, but love alone.
That in finding your perfection, even imperfect love has become tolerably beautiful in the light of your's.
That in your timelessness, time seems to stop altogether.
That before your love, hatred seems petty, and fear, a brutish tantrum.
That your teaching has made me see the world's in it's full truth
That hope in you has taught me to let go, to forgive and trust.
That words no longer seem like a reliable or sufficient expression for my feelings.

How strange, my Lord,
That in gaining you, I no longer find reason to want the world
You are my all, you are my only truly fulfilled desire
Nothing else can attain the depth you do, and can you blame them?
You are, after all, God.

9/7/13