that I might pray
by Carl WalkerLord, I pray
I would hear your small voice
In the cacophony of my desires and fears
That I might pray
From the raging sea of my passions
Waves of mountains, rising and falling,
that engulf me
And render me deaf to you
And, thus, mute to you
Because I cannot hear you
Neither can I pray what you will hear
(I John 5:14, 15, Ezekiel 14:3)
the raging sea possesses the sailor
orphaned from his vessel
as the oceanic storm of my passions
possesses me
and yet I form its tumult
with grasping and greed
believing life is found
in finding my desires
and escaping my fears
and I cannot hear God
for he tells me to die
when he knows very well
it is my fear of not having life that controls me
water
we drink it
we bathe in it
with it we subdue fire
it is such a safe, ordinary thing, water
we cook in it
every single day we command it to serve us
and serve us it does
it is our slave
does water not have its vengeance
when we find ourselves in its hand
Marvel, Oh Human
How unconquerable water becomes
When it marshals its forces
And makes weather
Weather makes storms
And we become at the mercy of
massed marching legions
Of tiny little droplets of water
Tornadic Frenzy laughs
And crashes mans castles
And dashes mens lives
And none can impede her
And none can chain her
And none can tame her
She is master
Until she pass
And I am controlled by smaller storms than these
I cling to a cruel illusion
That rest can be found
At the apex of possessions
And the immersion
Of favorable relationships
With little effort
I can hear god
Calling me, impelling me, commanding me
To ask for these things
What makes me warm
What makes me full
What gives me rest
This must
This must
I believe
Be gods best
And I fear that I am content
With these commands
When their source is the god of my own desire
How will I hear God
Calling me to die
Unless He show me His Glory
I cannot
I now know I cannot
Unless He show me His Glory
And this is an odd dance
The dance of my desire
And having my less than willing, clumsy feet
Spun by the tempest of His Glory
And He bears me into the jaws of death
Where others may not like me
And I may not be able to keep, and use, and control
My stuff
To hear Him
Means the threatening
Of the apex of my possessions
And the yielding of the
immersion of favorable relationships
and I discover
His thoughts are not my thoughts
For He calls me to sacrifice the pursuit of my desire
To have peace in the loss of my kingdom
And
Having opened my hand to Him
Yielding what so tightly I held
He is teaching me now
To ask Him
For what He wants to give
And I swear
I think I could face down a tornado
Or ride its maelstrom
with peace
Happily trusting my life
To Gods big hand
Because He teaches me to hear
His desire for me
And it is
Glory
(John 14:12, Luke 17:3-6)
11/20/2003
