Empty-handed
It wasn’t until life got the best of me
(I’m ashamed to say), that I came to my Lord,
empty-handed save for a bit of that hard won
humility He had requested from the first.
Came to the dead end of a long road
at the rim of a desert I was loathe to cross alone.
Then all His love talk came back to me.
His promise became my solace.
A patchwork faith (by His grace),
an ounce of patience; scant courage
and a modicum of obedience;
still bereft of the love that should be there.
But I’ll leave that to Him, having not a clue
what it is or how to go about acquiring it.
O child of God, lay down your trophies.
Love is not reward for a job well done.
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