Unnamed Poem

He has strengthened. He has weakened.
He has provided. He has divided.
He has given. He has taken.
He has mended. He has broken.
He has enlightened. He has obscured.
He has responded. He has been silent.
He has loved. He has made afraid.
Always He has molded, fashioned, and shaped.

He can see what I can’t know.
He knows the need of every blow.
He understands the pain they cause,
And when too much, He’ll pause.

How patiently He does His work.
How oft’ I wish it o’er.

Reflecting on His plan for me–
An image of His Son to be,
My protests turn to muted tones;
I bite my lip and stifle groans.

The pain is hard. I want to say,
“No more, I’m done, please go away.”
Instead I look through misty tears
And say “Well, then, how many years?”

Go ahead, do the work.
Ignore my tears that often lurk
At the gateway of my eyes,
And my silent cries.

Please do the work that’s needed now.
Complete the task, no matter how.
If You’re pleased by life or death,
I’m fully Yours, do what’s best.

Yet, I ask of You this thing,
Don’t let the pain be in vain.
Make use of it some way.
And be pleased with me, I pray.

A Christian poem by:  Tim Binder