He's a good Author
Of our lives story
Turning every scar
Into a beautiful story
Making beauty
Out of what people under valued
Daunting yet freeing
To see life through His eyes
Masterfully woven into
The fabrics of His heart
There I find safety.
Everything freezes
Everyone dissipates
In the presence
Of something greater
From here I see newness
I can taste freedom
I can feel goodness
It all makes sense
Then reality kicks
Like a toddler throwing a tantrum
My surrounding closes in
People disappoint
Money isn't enough
I feel like I'm drowning.
False realities of "happiness"
Convince me I'm not enough
No word consoles
I feel far.
You feel far.
Why can't you give me those things?
Loyalty.
Justice.
Freedom.
Wholeness.
Beauty.
Healing.
Money.
Yet, drowning in self pity
Doesn't feel any better
I turn back to you.
If evil was sand
It would be a grain
In the ocean of Your goodness
You probe my heart
You initiate love.
I don't have to try.
I don't have to pretend.
You sing, I listen.
Quietly. Patiently.
Listen.
Slow down.
Hear His breath.
Heartbeat.
Movement.
Smile.
Then suddenly it all makes sense
When I look away from me
I see myself through your eyes
Your story is better.
You're the Author, not me.
Buried in the distractions
I have at my fingertips
I don't realize that away
From that
There is a deeper truth
Within me that has never left.
Not even for a second.
-Karol Krawchuk
