Faith Resurrected

If there ever were dreams that were great and grand, they were the dreams that I had.  If ever a faithful one wanted to follow, I was that willing nomad.  If there were a soul who earnestly prayed, seeking His will to do.  That soul was mine, and I sought, for all time, to do what He wanted me to.

Raised in His teachings, secure in a faith, bound by His promise to stay.  When a new world emerged, soon I was submerged, foundations all crumbled away.  Confusion to desperation, desperation to terror; where now was life’s purpose, in what was my error?  Faith was destroyed, but a tiny thread and even that was at its end.

For how ever again can a faith be restored when a broken trust cannot fully mend.  Where once was security, uncertainty reigned.  Once there was peace, only trouble remained.  Where once all the answers seemed easily found, an endless depression soon did about.  When I had tried to reach back and reopen that door, I found that my key did not fit anymore.

I had believed and I had thought my faith was pure and strong.  But the world trudged in, and bitterness grew, an everything had gone wrong.  I saw not a ray of light as I stumbled in the dark, persisting even though I’d lost my way.  Meanwhile the detour just got longer, and my weaknesses got stronger and my soul grew more enslaved with each new day.

“But I sought after righteousness” I indignantly screamed, “with such good intentions for you!” And I shook my fist full of pious pride at a God that I once thought I knew.  A silence echoed back at me where I found myself standing alone.  Staring up into the cloudy heavens, I imagined an empty throne.

But my self-made cloak of righteousness fell away as filthy rags.  My boldness wavered, and indignation languised.  “All my aspirations counted for nothing” I realized, as a wave of remorse crashed over me, baptizing me in anguish.


Reduced to a state of utter nothingness, I somehow found the means to form a wordless prayer, confronting sin.

And I spoke to the God I could not see, from deep within my spirit, through many lonely, rainy nights, though I wasn’t sure He’d hear it.  “Oh Dear God you know my heart, and my life, I’ve done it all wrong.  I’m only paying for my own mistakes, but the turmoil has gone on so long.  My eyes are tired from crying and my feet have gotten sore, from carrying ’round these burdens.   I just can’t do it anymore. I know I’ve made you cry, Lord.  I know I walked away.  I’ve nothing at all to offer You, but please, won’t You show me the way?”.

Then Satan stood accusing me, each error he enlarged, and I deserved no less, for I was guilty as he charged.  But the savior reached down to me there, at His feet with my face in the dirt, and He lifted me up in His healing embrace and He kissed away the hurt.  “And where is your accuser now?”  I looked, and he was gone.  “But Lord, I am not worthy”, I said.  He replied “you are one of My own”.  He brought me out of the darkness, then He gave me a promise to cling to.  He said “you have no idea, my child, of the blessings I wish to bring you.

I will give you the desires of your heart if you’ll only delight in My way.  Weeping endures for the night-time now, but joy comes with the dawning day”.  He said “I am able to do exceeding abunantly more than all you could ever want or hope, or even think to ask Me for.  I have faithfully kept for you that which was committed to Me. I paid for your sins, bought you with My blood, and died, that you might be free”.

So now the circle closes, and I am back where my faith began, the God of second chances holding firmly to my hand, and from this moment forward, no strength or wisdom o I claim.  For unless it’s the Lord Who builds this house all my labor shall be in vain.

Copyright STLloyd 1999

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