Here and there. As fast as I can. I look, I search, I pray, and hope. Surrender I must. Surrender I can’t. From one place to another. I look for rest and hope for rest. I’m tired. I won’t tell you though. I sit. I pray. I look to him who says, “Come to me all who are tired.”
Here and there. From clipart to my bible. From my broken guitar string to my missing pick. I hope you won’t find out. I’m not perfect. I fear you might find out that I’m tired. I pretend. I’m a sinner. I pray you might accept me in my feeble attempts of caring for souls that hurt.
Here and there. Sermons that stink. Talks that tire. My heart I pray you see with hope that you will hear loud and clear. The love and grace of God so near. I hope and pray I stop to tell and be. Breathe and sing of he who loves you and me. I pray you will see. See the spirit at work and moving in me.
Here and there. Jesus freaks and liberals. Working, living, and praying one day he who made us will unite. Inclusive this and inclusive that. Come to me. Go and make. Be transformed. Be imitators. Imitate the one who loves and the one who aches over his children who lack faith with hopes that one day he who is here and who is there will bring peace to those who are over here and who are over there.