I sit in this study

Seems like a wasteland

Sunday services are plastic

Wife now has a pressing job

And kids always at the Mall

(Court appearance for Tim

Next Tuesday)

Some model family now.

And I’m tired of yawning faces

Plugged ears

And parrot-like behavior in the flock.

The Board recoils at it all

With no real vision.

The job is at stake

And frankly I hardly care.

But this morning

With first robin outside my window

I arose and read

About David at Ziklag.

I felt every verse.

And the shame that somehow

I could not

“Encourage myself in the Lord.”

Or take off again into the fight

Recovering family and friends

From the Enemy Camp.

And a voice said

“That’s just it Chuck.

You cannot.

And for years all your strategies

Have led you farther from my power

My program

My pace.

And so, sit back Child,

Broken and breathless

Cry and pray a bit like a baby.

And watch Me do the work

Of rescue and rebuild.

And you Child

Just point your nose into tomorrow

And keep listening.



Published by


Married and father of two. Living in Waterloo, Ontario. Workplace health and safety professional. Blogger. Poet. Nature hiker. History buff. Inspirational writer. Newsboy for Jesus.

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