A Sigh of Belief

You are ever
under siege, Your
mighty right hand
now wearied, and
Your left grasping
after a little rest –
but Sabbath seems
to escape You.

How will You renew
creation, Lord, when
You sit across from me
slumped in the chair
like a soldier about to
surrender?

And yet, Your eyes,
Your eyes still galvanize
in grace, and later when
I read Your latest missive
I am reminded that You
mind Yourself, and so us,
and I breathe a
sigh of
belief.

2 thoughts on “A Sigh of Belief

  1. shoreacres says:

    In The Irrational Season, one of Madeleine L’Engle’s books based on her journals, she tells the story of one of her children (or grandchildren) saying bedtime prayers and ending with “And God — God bless you, too!” That’s the feeling I get from your poem; a sense of compassion even for the source of life.

  2. agjorgenson says:

    Love this idea. A few months ago there was a meme on Facebook about a child asking “Who does God pray to?” I used that in sermon not so long ago to get at the idea of prayer as communication rather than requesting alone. Maybe that informed this poem…

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