If only I could tidy my house

Without falling to the ground.

If only I could go to church.

Without fearing movement and sound.

If only I didn’t feel so dreadful

Just from sitting up.

If only I could eat normal food

Without ever throwing up.

If only all my thoughts were clear,

And I had the strength for smiles.

If only my body had energy

To pack and travel miles.

But if all these things were so, would I

ever slow to think,

To puzzle out the purpose of life?

Would I swim or sink?

I feel like I am drowning now,

But I know that it’s not true.

My Father holds me in feathered wings,

And He is making me new.

One day my body will work rightly,

And never will I miss out.

But more than that, with a pure heart,

My soul will sing and shout.

He is Holy, even still,

Even through the pain.

I won’t forget that for my sins,

The God of all was slain.

That he would sacrifice His Son

To save me for His own,

I can trust that this sad song,

Is worth my every moan.

I don’t know why or how it can,

Yet in humility I say,

I along with poor old Job,

I wasn’t there on creation day.

I do not guide the orbiting planets.

I do not shape the seas.

I do not weave man’s history.

I am not the God who sees.

So I’ll rest in this moment, trusting

That He is over all,

Knowing that He cares for each

And every time I fall.

I’ll seek the grace he’s given to me;

I’ll find it through the haze.

Then with David, I’ll sing a song

Of Suffering and Praise.