Are there words enough,
To describe the works of His hands;
To list and ascribe the honour due Him
From ages past to the very next breath?
It is not a matter of length,
For even in every single breath,
Lies an enigma simply stated, but utterly confounding.
Are there words enough?
Father, I’m parched.
I’m thirsty, when by all indications I should be drowning.
I’m famished, when I really feel I should be utterly stuffed now.
How is it Father, that ripples on these waters still rattle me?
Why do I stumble now, when I was doing alright just a while earlier?
How am I baffled now, when I felt I understood this not long ago?
Father, please, help me; For it would be a shame to get lost, in such familiar territory.
There is something that I need to see,
Something I need to write.
Is it beauty, or glory;
Maybe grace personified?
The countenance of kindness,
The colour of wrath,
What does it mean to be called a child of God?
What price is enough, to be called by His name?
I may not completely understand the depth of the mystery;
I can definitely not afford, and am unworthy of bearing the cost;
But I am called by His name, by the working of Grace.
“God asks the most mind-boggling questions, then provides the simplest of answers…but sometimes He just asks the simplest sounding questions, and leaves you reeling from the answers.” – Makafui.
“One good reason is a lot of motivation. Let’s start asking the right questions.” – Makafui.
Father, why do You feel so far,
When I know You are so close?
Why does this trouble look so overwhelming,
When I know that nothing is beyond You?
Why do I feel so down Lord,
When I know You’ve got such good and perfect plans for me?
Why, oh why, do I cry out so much,
When I know You’ve borne all my shame and distress?