Close

I had grown so close
To the words of inspiration
That seemed to come from deep inside

Faithfully I also listened
To words read and heard
Collecting melodious energy far and near

I was ready to write
About a thought that had brewed
Accepting the task a fair exchange of joy 

All I had to do was
Follow the whispers down the path
Of holiness, letting the words find the way 

Instead this time I became
Filled with lonely emptiness 
How could I complete the poem by myself

Alone in the silence
I heard from deep within
Words that were mine, not from far outside

For the first time I realized
I had listened but never asked
A longing question; What is Your will

A memory now, of how, we became so close

 

I had come to a breakpoint where I had to move past listening, a time to move past simply hearing God speaking to me. The books, the stories, liturgy, grace of other people, prayer, even thoughts in the recesses of my mind seemed inadequate.  I begin to realize I needed to become part of something much larger. My participation had to become part of the fabric of my being. Although I had found great joy from the journey I was on, this concept gnawed at me. 

Profound questions seem to appear, in my case I had to ask a tough question.  Was I writing because of the joy I liked to feel when doing so? In the immediacy of the silence I discovered the emptiness of what life in the world would be like without Him.  The thought hit like a hammer. I had not truly asked the question He knew I would eventually ask. With no strings attached, I asked God what he wanted from me. Now it is a never ending moment, a lasting memory of mutual unconditional love.

For further reflection: Romans 8