This year I self-published a book of poems titled, “When God Weeps Blood.” During a difficult stretch a few years ago, God led me to write poetry as a way to process with the Lord part of the suffering. The lessons he revealed in those dark hours emerged as gift–a deeper more enduring love for Him. Here’s one I especially like, and wanted to share it with you today.

I thought love a feeling,

But somewhere in time

It scurried away,

So, I sought the grind.

I thought love a starlit,

Sublime, surreal, mystery there,

Until like a vapor it vanished,

In a selfish prayer.

I thought love a wistful kiss

In shroud, garland and lace,

Splendid under the stars,

Until I found disgrace.

I thought love a savor

Relished, seen and plied

Longing for more, filled beyond

All wonder…until it died.

I thought love an honored

Festive grace to hold between

Heaven and earth, a white dove,

Until so brilliant, it vanished

In the clouds above.

I thought…but then who can tell

What love’s mystery has foretold.

The moving wheels of grace

Slow, then rust when we turn old,

And stop upon the way,

To hold joy and laughter there.

And a silent ancient thing

Called love, becomes prayer.