Walking Through The Darkness ‑ A Journey Into God

Darkness and sorrow engulf me and I cry out,

"I thought Christianity could never hurt like this."

How often I've tried to hide from the pain within and without.

But such escape is no longer possible

And I must at last be true to You

and face all the giants, and also

my weakness even if what I think

and feel is not "correct".

Not what I've been taught that I should be

For it is where I am and what I am right now;

I cannot be anything else, try as I may.

And would You really want me to be?

I've laid my life down on Your Word Lord.

I guess I'm going to find out if it's really true,

With a knowledge that is based on experience, not hope‑so's.

And isn't that what You really want after all?

"Every Word of God is tested and tried", You said.

I never knew I'd be the one to do it.

It's so much easier to learn from another's journey

And never take my own.

But you have called me and bid me come.

"Come, Cora, come ‑ find out for certain Who I AM".

It will cost you everything ‑

All you think you know and all you ever dreamed or planned.

BUT WHAT IS ALL THAT REALLY WORTH ANYWAY?

Can you yet say, "Such as I have give I you",

And stretch forth your hand to those in need?

What do you have Cora, apart from Me,

And how much of Me can you yet contain?

Am I your only hope, your only source, your only life?

Cora, do you really know who I AM?

Is it worth it to you to find out?

Come and see Cora, come and see.

Then you will not be only full of words and revelations,

But you will have real bread to share with the hungry

And real water for those who thirst.

You will be enlarged to contain ME until you overflow.

Cora, did you know your capacity for joy

Is in proportion to your walk with sorrow?

Your ability to comfort to your experience with pain?

Your abundance of life to the extent of your death...?

Oh Lord, I hear Your whispers but I know not what to do.

My eyes are ever searching for a glimpse of You.

The days wear on like some dark dream that never ends.

The floods of pain engulf me;

My mind and body weaken and my spirit groans.

Everything I cherish and hold dear is in the fire;

I am not sure what will remain.

I can do nothing but lie down like a sacrifice on this altar

And know that when the fire has died down,

What will be left will be of God.

But even here, still I cry,

"O Lord, how long must your servant endure?"

"Til the end", You say, but what is that end?

I suppose it is the end of me ‑

The patterns of doing and thinking that blind me

And bind me and keep me from your fullness.

Yes Lord, it must be good,

For You are good and I am your blood‑bought child.

Burn my bonds off Lord

And leave a vessel that is clean and pure, able to be filled,

So that like Jesus, in whose name I pray,

When I see all that has been accomplished by the anguish of my soul,

I too will be satisfied.