A poem for all who sit with the Lord today full of their own crosses yet trying to focus on His.
A reminder that He is there for all of it.
WHILE THE WORLD WAITS
In this moment,
the world is quiet
as it waits for you to rise,
and in the silence,
I thought I’d sit
and talk to you awhile.
I want to just sit here
and marvel at the sacrifice
you made for me.
And yet, I find myself
laying everything in my heart
down in front of you.
I ask:
“Can I be honest, Lord,
about this weight
upon my shoulders?”
You remain silent,
and so I continue,
somewhat freed
by the darkness
surrounding me.
Sometimes,
no often…
I want to ask
why you placed
this heavy, raw,
and splintered wood
upon my shoulders.
Sometimes,
no often…
I want to rid
myself of this weight
and walk up to You
as you rest upon the cross
and lay it right down
at your feet.
Sometimes,
no often…
I want to say
take this
splintered wood
from me
because I am too weak
for the weight of it.
But sometimes,
perhaps just as often,
I feel so embarrassed
by this desire
for surely there are
much heavier,
much rawer crosses
out there
than mine.
And sometimes,
no always,
I am struck by the irony
of me wanting to lay
my little crosses down
in front of Yours.
Still,
a flawed and imperfect human,
I come before you with
my weak arms outstretched
and offer my burdens anyway,
asking:
“Lord, can I have some help
with these?”
Surely, you should say no.
Surely, you should look at me
and wonder why I am so unbelievably selfish.
Surely, you should say,
“Can’t you see I’m dying here?”
I wouldn’t blame you if you did.
But you never say any of that to me.
Instead,
as if You forget about
your own pain for a minute,
You look at me with so much love
and answer with a resounding, heartfelt
“Yes.”
I imagine this is why
every year without fail
the world mourns
the temporary loss of You.
For we have never been
so loved before or again
then the moment you said,
“Let me take this all from You.”
and breathed
Your
last.
© 2022, Gretchen Crowder
