Oh Jesus,
why have You called me into this waiting?
A season of hope-mixed anxiety,
for fear of placing down surrender
that could go unfulfilled.
I ache in this place of not knowing,
not seeing, not feeling, not tasting.
The hurt ripping small pieces of me apart
because I struggle to cling to Your garment.
You seem just out of reach, Lord.
Just slightly out of my grasp
that I fear I can no longer make the journey,
or trust that it’s Your voice I follow.

But now I wonder, Jesus,
Are You really out of my reach?
Just beyond my fingertips?

Or are You still leading,
asking me to keep up in pursuit,
for the moment You might
let the power leave Your cloak?

-aac