Hineni

I’m so tired of doing nothing,
It plagues me every day;
My burdens worn for rusting,
Yet never go away.

Perplexed my anxious spirit
On where to lay its hand,
A wave that crests but fears it
Will never roll and land.

My life, oh God, is nothing,
But that’s your favorite tool;
The wicked’s plans rebuffing
With your own longing fools.

Desire makes not a calling,
Nor burden deign a hire;
But  footsteps never falling
Is walking in the fire.

Who looks for battle orders
When in declining years?
With spirit as a mortar,
But body pouring tears.

Not one here knows the issue
Of providence divine;
But all here waiting wish You
Might judge the earth in time.

Long outrages so grievous
Unite to crush a prayer,
From wholeness into pieces,
To find You waiting there.

We wait with wearied spirit
And fading tearful eye,
Repeating, (do you hear it?),
My Father, “Here am I”.

Charles Church 5/21/22