We Are Such a Mix

sometimes I feel so frail;
and what does God do
but win with a look
my wonder,
      will,
      all;
again;
You have made it all
as You have made it,
and built us to be
better by our trust;
this we know, that
grace enough is given;
and we transform Your
world by trusting grace.

we are such a mix of thorns and thread;
why do You insist on living in the midst,
even among the broken bowls and spilled strengths?
I’ve seen You sift among the crumbs
and find (I don’t know how) a loaf;
what we tear, touch to make us mend;
and show again to sift and share and be again the bread.

even in even on each shallow surface
where we might wait
afraid or unsure
You are there, even there
and reach for our hand
to hold us close
and bind us in
within Your Heart’s embrace;
everywhere we might wait,
or wander, or wonder,
there is Your hand,
reaching for our hearts,
protecting and guiding and gently proclaiming
“you’re home, even now, you are home.”