Lamar Howell's Weblog

Nothing left to say

No one to impress

No fancy prayer to pray

or store to window dress

No arguments to make

or promises to claim

No property to stake

No stamping with His name

I’m surrendered here upon His open sea

Adrift in currents of His sovereignty

Yet tethered to the cosmic timeless One

He is the be-all and end-all’ to me

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I played in this meadow

Watched the saplings sprout

Lay down in the grass and watched the sky swirl

suppressed a laugh as I

Waited for someone to come find me

I worked in this meadow

Watched the young tree grow

Lay down in the wheat and watched the dark clouds roll

expressed a sigh as I

Waited for someone to bring me water

I lie in this meadow

Beneath the mighty oak

Feel the push of invading roots and pine for the sky

suppressing my breath as I

Wait for the Son to call me out

This is my piece of earth

Borrowed for a short time

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Jesus

You melt the snow off my Himalayas

You take the pressure off the bottom of my sea

You fill my thin Martian air with oxygen

And you’re the breeze that blows through my Death Valley

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