I feel stuck in this stage of my life
Where all of the feelings of toil and strife
Birth a whisper of fruit on its way
That the plow was dropped
At the first hint of frost
And this seed hoped on the promise of Harvest
Now the Winter has passed
With its cold grip of death
That has killed everything gone astray
I know it was needed
My life is a mess
But God, nothing will grow in its place!
Spring has not sprung
The earth reeks of rot
The worms feast on the waste of winter
The carcasses of the trees stand humbled
Yet the evergreen is still ever green
But Oh God nothing else is
This dirt feels like muck and mire and I’m afraid You forgot to pull me out.
The soil seems ripe and the nutrients are there
But God hear my prayer
I’m scared that my fruit will not grow
And I want to believe the seed will sprout
But Lord hear my doubt, is there even a seed in the ground?
Was I scattered on the road?
Or choked by the thorns?
Lord, if You are the Sower
Why won’t anything grow?
This purgatorial existence
Feels more like a punishment than pleasure
For this You bled and died
With the triumphant cry of Tetelestai!
And yet Jesus, I don't see your triumph
There is no blossom, not even a leaf
And Lord, I’m dying to feel
That You still care for this seed
You have said You will finish the work
But it looks like You forgot to start
I’m wrestling with doubt
Inside of my heart
I worry that my faith might be microscopic
Compared to even a mustard seed
In this dirt I’ve heard whispers of something called clouds
And yet I don’t know if my faith is strong enough to believe they are up there
This dirt is my reality
It smothers me
And yet Lord please fix my eyes on the King of the Sky
I worry that this dirt is actually a tomb
And I overslept the rock being rolled
That when You said Awake O Sleeper
I hit snooze on the alarm
And instead this darkness consumes me
But this I believe
That the Creator creates
Out of nothing He brings life
And if there is nothing in the ground
Than maybe bring my fruit ex nihilo