Sometimes I don’t have the words to write.
Sometimes I don’t have the words to express what I’m feeling, good or bad.
Sometimes I don’t have the words to say to the person right in front of me.
How can my words compensate for their pain?
How can my words express these feelings I don’t even understand?
How can I tell you what I’m walking through when I feel like I always have to be something?
But I don’t.
I don’t have to be anything.
I don’t have to prove myself to anyone.
Even when I feel like I have to prove myself to everyone all the time,
I don’t.
I just have to be,
Existing in this world I’m in,
Trusting God to fill the gap
Because I can’t.
I can’t heal the wounds of someone who has been abused.
I can’t fix the life of the refugee.
I can’t heal the crippled one on the sidewalk.
I can’t.
But I know someone who can,
I know someone who heals the blind and calls the lame to walk,
I know someone who cares as much as I do and a thousand times more.
And He knows,
Whether I have the words or not,
He knows.
He doesn’t miss a single tear.
He calls me to keep going even when it’s hard
Because He never said it would be easy.
So for Him I extend my hand
To the women on the sidewalk
The women I can only do so much for.
For Him I ask in my insufficient Spanish
To the kid whose seen more tragedy than I can imagine,
“¿Estás bien?”
She’s not okay.
Of course she’s not.
But somehow a bouquet of flowers given to her by her brother can still bring a smile to her face,
And she will be loved,
Whether she knows it or not,
Because I know from the pounding of my own heart
How much more the Father loves her.
He’ll leave the ninety nine to go after the one.
And he’ll use you and me.
Little you and me.
I’ve seen it.
I’ve seen the woman with five kids who can’t make ends meet smile, and say she’s good thanks to God.
She smiles because she has help and she has hope.
I’ve seen those who have nothing find the courage to start their own business.
I’ve seen the lady on the sidewalk smile more and more each day.
How?
They thought they were alone but they weren’t forgotten or forsaken.
You see God hates the pain in this world as much as you and I do.
Why doesn’t he do something then?
He is.
And He will.
You can tell me there is no meaning to my pain
You can tell me the lost one has been forsaken,
But I know you’re wrong.
I know there’s more to this story of ours
Because I know
I can’t make the crippled woman smile.
That’s not me.
The spark in their eyes,
I didn’t put it there.
You can tell me God is just a crutch,
And I’ll tell you you’re right,
He’s the crutch that lets the broken walk.
