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.