The Maze

Muddled.

Messy.

Inadequate.

Afraid.

How can you use a girl like me?

I feel so desperate,

for more of Thee.

A maze of souls,

I walk through blind,

to seeing the path,

You want me to find.

I hit a wall,

and turn around,

“I should have known,”

a contemptuous frown.

But what if the wall

was part of the plan?

to redirect

and hold your hand?

To give up

and let go,

to figuring out

what only you can know?

Participation; not getting it right.

Learning and growing

as we wade through souls,

Whose transformation

only You can hold.

Designer of the maze,

O can’t you see?

the bushes and vines

that entangle me?

Chop them away,

cut them through,

(or perhaps they’re part

of Your plan too?)

Just, please, release me

to follow You.

Meet me at the walls,

dead ends,

and turns,

Guide me through,

The One Who Sees,

As I hold Your hand . . .

The end.

An opening

A new direction to go . . .

Muddled.

Still messy.

Inadequate for sure.

But Love giving me courage

to help me see,

“Inadequate yes,

but Beloved My love

transforms thee.”