An Unexpected Providence

Chaos. Unrest.

The enemies of peace

and unwanted guests

in my mind. Please cease!

They suffocates and bury,

accomplices invisible.

But I’m too blind to see them

because I’m trying be visible.

Unbreaking clouds of confusion

covering my view

of the conclusion

of things I wish were untrue.

Death, too soon,

has clinched your daughter,

before her first birthday ballon. 

I thought you were good, Father.

No clarity. Only doubt

that anything good

can come from this drought.

(No soul food.)

Yet wilderness waste,

this land of languish,

is not wasted

or aimless anguish.

A view of the distance

far off, but I can see

my own existence

is vastly beyond me.

A soft, still silence:

an offer of rest

to quiet the self-reliance

that sits heavy on my chest.

An unexpected providence:

You’re present in my pain.

It’s my only confidence 

that any of this can be working gain.

All that haunts me

is a gracious design

to fit me for eternity—

to myself resigned,

and in Your image refined.