[there’s no need to try to analyse this. i’ve been thinking about faith a bit, and what the biggest acts of faith have been in my life… too much time awake at night at the moment… bloody jetlag…]
we talked of hope once
it was right at the time
we talked of the mighty works God had done.
we told of them with conviction and passion,
as though they had played out in front of us
self evident in our midst
and then one day
we were no longer so sure.
were these our stories?
for a while it was rhetorical
what if we no longer believed?
but before we knew it, it was done.
certainty became a faint memory
nothing has changed
what difference did it all make?
the world goes on
wars still rage
justice is ravaged
people destroy each other with fierce abandon
we seethe with the injustice of it
we still feel lonely
but now we stand here
seeing it new
nothing to hold us,
no faith to protect us,
naked, it seems
just as the first time
how much we need for you to be true
how that doesn’t make it so.