i am not the lost sheep, for You know exactly where i am. but i am a stupid one.

i know i shouldn’t lag behind the flock or wander over to the edge of the cliff repeatedly to check how far we’ve come, but i do anyway.

i’m weak and my wool falls into my eyes so i can hardly see You, but i make only half-hearted efforts to swipe it away.

Father, i am not worthy of Your love in any way. but You give my hooves strength to keep following You.

thank You, Jesus. please, keep me close to You. I will wipe this wool from my eyes and keep stumbling after You, no matter how much it costs.

for You will be my strength and my song and my salvation.

I've fallen to mapping
the deepest parts of my forehead
again. these days it feels like
I'm climbing the jungle gym of my mind,
clearing away cobwebs and
emptying
dust-covered boxes into my lap,
searching yellowed scrolls and broken crates
for diamonds.
it's not that I feel far from
the present, just as if
I'm swimming through it,
my head the only part of me
above the water.

it's been a little while but
I am still only climbing,
praying, and
scribbling words
on a familiar page.

I think I would like to be a hummingbird,
flitting around on my own,
pausing on a branch for several seconds
to catch my breath
before moving on.

as it is,
I am constantly stopping and starting
simultaneously,
starting to learn and then
stopping to think.

perhaps, in a way,
I am already
a hummingbird.

following my headlights
down a rainy street at midnight.
street signs illuminated:
warnings of curvy roads ahead
and mentions of a city that is to come.

head lights-
lights in my head.
I don't mean a car,
I mean the laser beams
shining in the darkest recesses
of my head.
pinpricks of tune in
an abyss of dissonance,
stringing together into a song
of faith.
of hope in the future and
focus in the present.
I will follow these head lights
down every rainy street.

the devil likes to aim for my shins,
knowing if he takes out my legs
I might stop trying to walk.
by now there must be many bruises
from every time he has near
succeeded.
but I am still standing.
(God is still holding me up.)
my steps may be wobbly and slow,
but they are still steps.

I have found the strongest shin guards
and duct-taped them to my legs.
They are a sort of armor
for this fight.

and i must strive
to remind myself
of Your love
(patient and overwhelming
and profound)
every morning
so i do not lose sight
of the vibrance
of living.

surely
You are found in the sound
of raindrops dripping
sprinkling, storming,
coming down in sheets.