Rent
I push and pull, then heave struggle
To fight sans rest, oh toss this test
They sing and shout, so blind to doubt
I chafe then hide, can’t feign the pride
The shell in which I hide, conceals what is inside
The joy it seems presides, in me does not abide
It burns deeply within, a fight I want to end
I long for hope to win, can’t bear to fall again
Scripture tells me I’m blessed, heaven will follow death
What I desire is rest, I welcome what comes next
Unwilling to pre-empt, I’ll press ahead till spent
My faith in truth unbent, patient for my assent
* * *
Feeling incapable? Unworthy? Tired of the fight? My book The Rage is about not being good enough.
Hang in there, I am. And be blessed!

