A rope was twisting, twisting, twisting,
Writhing in its pain.
It couldn't understand why God
Would let it feel this way.
A rock was falling, falling, falling,
Falling through the air.
How could a God whose name was “Love”
Be faithlessly unfair?
A leaf was blowing, blowing, blowing,
But then it blew away.
O why is life so very hard?
Why struggle every day?
Yet He was dying, dying, dying,
Dying in our place.
So we could set our hope in Him,
Receiving His great grace.
God has a reason for our pain,
A blessing from above:
That when we fall and fail again,
We fall into His love.
This is the grace that Christ procured,
Through His death for us:
He gave us life, and promised that
We'd never, ever, ever be forsaken.
1 comment:
From a literal point of view, this poem is pretty straightforward. I wrote it a month or so ago in a time of extreme hardship. I literally felt like I was being twisted (anyone else ever felt that way?). But what God showed me was essentially what I wrote in the final three quatrains: that through Christ failure is not the end, that God's love is independent of our success. He is faithful even when we are faithless (2 Tim. 2:13).
The main poetic point I'd like to make is found in the final quatrain. You'll note that there is no rhyme, and that the last line breaks the metrical pattern of the rest of the poem. There is a reason for that. Such "mistakes" are often intended to draw attention to important parts of the poem. I am trying to draw special attention to the final quatrain by not letting it rhyme, and extra special attention to the final line by having it break the metrical pattern. Not an accident :)
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