A Matter of Faith

O balked from the tree of his righteousness Dried out, crushed to bitter pulp, I am bleached Of his nature, his image sin digest Till I am a chemical drip, a leached Embodiment of human reason, just Paper without special purpose now, bare Of true identity, soiled, tossed in dust A crumpled thing, a broken tree, a tare. But then the Gardener came, wrote his name Again on me, set it bottom of the page Under the letter of his love, I found fame Anew, calm comfort where the axe had rage Call me Bible, call me gospel, I bring You evidence, lo, I am God's new thing ii Let science reads its figment in the skies Let men dream nature's fictitious power Make planets spin and orbit butterflies I stand in reverence with a flower Awed that I and it are creatures of clay I, immaculate, towering reason It the core supply of food a season And we two bound by design, love's display Of purpose, mystery, and His joy sublime Amidst earth's grit, and life's gangrene and grime Fearfully and wonderfully I am Made, and may not the Gardener's purpose Glean all at once, but I believe the Lamb Death comes to all, but faith lifts me from mere dust. iii Gardeners, yes, are potters too, but He A special one, does what no one can do From common clay he makes the fruiting tree From common clay a vase sparkling and new With common clay he fills his case, then make It castle for the tree. I, he did break The common clay of freewill, softly spake To me in tongues of fire, my mistake To cleanse, when freewill had all options lost In the finite span of time, I submit To him, who from his flesh my mold had cast Whose eternity is my hope's limit Whose grace my spinning wheel, O proclaim Image of the potter, pride of his name. iv Let me the stag the mad hounds lead away Led me pant the chase with love's enchantment At the bright city's gate ends the foray That charms their eyes and brim with wonderment For simple truth of divine word. Mark me Not for the third arrow's coming, I yield All glory to your name. Truth and beauty In me polish, seal me your word to wield. For I was made to honor your glory To be the moon of your eternal sun To be your messenger and your story Your servant until life's frail time is done Into your forest then let me there glow The target of your grace, your love to show.