Writing isn’t as easy as it used to be.
Words don’t flow; feelings feel distant.
Though my heart for the Lord is still there
Somehow the expressions, the reaching,
The reading, and the praying
Take extra effort of will.
The cares of this world threaten to choke me out…
Yet some deep part of me yearns after Him
Though the externals pull me away.
In the night stillness I awake sometimes,
Unable to get back to sleep, I lay there
Reminded that these are the moments
When I used to pray…
So I begin to pray and quickly fall back to sleep.
In the early morning quiet, I wonder
Did it matter? Does He still hover nearby
Waiting for me to recognize Him?
Then the day’s duties beckon me and
I rush through the morning and out the door,
Concentrate on work and people’s needs the whole day,
Ride home exhausted, and
Try to pull my mental processes together each evening.
Where did the hunger go?
What happened to that thirsty,
Desperate woman I used to be?
A part of me mourns the comfort of companionship and
The fulfillment of material needs.
It seems that these needs, having been met,
Pulled me far away… so very far away.
Ah, Father, draw my heart again.
Give me the childlike wonder I had in you,
In your creation, in the works of your hands
Through the people around me.
I need the meditative me that found solace
In the bountiful you!

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