Out of the realm of Your eternal Glory
Out of warm outpourings of Your Love,
Love vaster than the heavens,
Deeper than any ocean, wider than sky:
You create souls that are unique
With unique bodies made for carrying them —
Giving to each a plan, launched at birth
With Your Hope, and with Your Love.
But O how often in this World’s history
Have those interfacing plans succumbed
To the ancient curse, brought on by Adam:
Souls by the countless millions
Deafened, blinded to Your voice, and Presence;
Stumbling onto the Broad Way eternally
Stymied by evil, and sin, which You hate.
And O what sorrow and disappointment for You.
And now, dear Lord, in my Autumn days —
You enabled this foundering pilgrim to find You,
To seek Your face, begin to learn Your ways.
May this microscopic fact of history,
Regrettably late in service to You,
Joining other links, in Your Church,
(The long desired Bride for Your dear Son)
Help in assuaging Your measureless grief and sorrow.
So much grief, and unrequited Love.
O Jerusalem, Jerusalem, thou that killest the prophets, and stonest them which are sent unto thee, how often would I have gathered thy children together, even as a hen gathereth her chickens under her wings, and ye would not! (Matthew 23:37)