Years of wander,
Wayward, hamster-wheel living.
Seeking minus surrender; another turn of the squeaky wheel,
panting from a pace frantic, a nameless desperation propelling.
“Put down your net, and follow Me,” your invitation extended.
Step off the wheel, silence the rhythm of striving,
and let us Live.
We walk, we talk,
and in the surrender of status quo, seeking becomes finding.
Desperation granted trajectory; hunger handed an extravagant menu.
And Oh, how I feast.
On Your Grace, Your Power, Your laying-down-of-life sort of Love.
You call me by name, I come alive,
Hear you declare me as friend,
You call me by name…
Darkness descends, fear oppressively thick,
I hear my own voice- denial to ever having known You, My Friend.
In an instant Love squandered.
Shoving hard back from the Feasting table, my chair topples, I flee,
crawling back to the forsaken wheel,
squeaks of betrayal round and round in my ears.
And Oh, how I weep.
My Jesus, my friend-
Would you, Could you, still consider me so?
I ache with sorry.
Forgive my fickle, faint, Friday-Peter faith.
Please God, restore what I have broken- crush this wheel of shame, of self. Forever.
Finish it Jesus.
You find me again, there on the shore.
Beckoning me fireside,
You call me by name.
Joy for weeping,
Beauty for ashes,
we walk, we talk,