Tag: difficult

Threshing Floor

You sift the wheat from the chaff,
Separate the barley from the hull,
Till all that remains is Your harvest.
You call us all to let go of the stuff, the fluff,
The unnecessary things and habits we cling to
Till all that remains is Your perfect work
Forming us to Your character
So that others can see real substance in us.
You also separate those who turn away
From those who choose to follow…
Those whose hearts are not truly committed
From those who will never look back.
These are difficult times but
The winnowing process is meant to be hard.
The winds of trouble are blowing
Through the threshing floor now…
O Lord Jesus, let me be of the substance that matters,
Not of the stuff that You are blowing away.

Waiting Game

I thought it was hard before…
When I waited through weeks and months
Of uncertainty and clouded vision,
But this really has turned into an ordeal.
I find I have to balance between
Stagnation, contentment, and impatience.
It’s difficult to understand how…
To be content where I am without settling,
To trust that God can be, and is, using me here,
Yet make some effort to move forward
Because I don’t believe I am to stay “here.”
It’s a fine line to have to walk…
Not stagnant nor striving, only steady.
I just don’t think I’m quite “there” yet,
So, sighing, I sit still and keep waiting,
Keep trying to learn whatever lesson
I’m supposed to be learning at this desk,
Keep hoping for some miracle to happen…
Soon? Maybe? Or not.
Is it any wonder I can’t figure things out?

I Type On

My fingers meander over the keyboard leisurely
While my thoughts follow along…
Sometimes slowly…
Sometimes tripping over each other…
It doesn’t matter how, only that they do.
Meanwhile, my fingers keep wandering,
Wondering what will come next.
There are moments when it seems
These things just write themselves.
At other times, every word is a struggle.
Nevertheless, I write. I must write.

Occasionally it feels like
Compulsion rather than inspiration,
And I wonder why I bother doing it,
But the satisfaction in the end result
Is like a carrot on a stick,
Or a fresh baked cookie just out of the oven
Smelling sooooo… wonderful,
I can hardly wait to finish a piece
To get that taste of accomplishment.

On the other hand,
The pleasure in the process keeps me
Putting more words down on paper—
Well, at least figuratively anyway.
I like the gentle rhythm of speaking,
Because even when I say nothing out loud,
The words sound in my head
Like a speech or a song, or even…
(And here I laugh behind my hand)
…A poem!

Next project on my list:
Write a new poem,
And another,
And another…
Because I can’t “not write.?
Folding my hands and thoughts into stillness
Is very difficult for me.
So I’m content to let my fingers
Tap out random thoughts and words
For now.
Eventually they will shape themselves
Into some palatable form.
In the meantime,
I type on.

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