Why am I not afraid? Why am I sure am not?
What then should I do when I am afraid,
When all my fears come creeping in and driving me nuts,
When it seems I already know the answers?
It’s like a dilemma to know this simple thing:
That though I think I know what I should do,
Yet I feel a sense of disability; like I’m some fool.
Am I stupid and dumb?
Does weakness abound so much and now a norm?
Is something wrong with me as this way I feel?
I feel something pulling at my strings;
But, in the first place, how come there are strings?
I wish I do know why I feel this way.
Is it wrong for me?
Is this dismay?
Yeah, right. I know I should be strong
I’ll sure be crucified by many who expect so much
But now I feel there should be more
As if on another platform my feet belongs.
O how I yearn for it as it pulls at me.
I am humanity. Void of nature’s caress, my nature’s a mess.
In life, I’m helpless and as I think of death, hopeless.
But I find some kind of succour in the flowing energy
That energy which runs dep within my veins like magic
It begins as blood invisibly flows into pen and mixes with ink.
In it is the revelation of a writer’s heart.
With this, I fi,d a satisfaction like from another half.
For if you ever want to know a writer proper
Then read what he bleeds out on paper.
Call it a delusion. An obsession if you must.
But focus a little today, on me, you, us;
Tomorrow has not yet dawn and its wants are yet unborn.
But as a drowning man grasps for help, aid, anything within reach
Even so, I gaze about as I feel drowned;
Drowned by despair and uncertainty, the fear of the unknown.
The fear of all that even in the world may be known.
I looked up and found none to behold but Jesus.
He has become all I ever want to know
The very reason I even want to grow.
Call me ridiculous, but consider Jesus thus:
He is a deep sea of bliss and a shoreless ocean of delight.
Swim an age and you shall find no shore.
Dive throughout eternity and you shall find no bottom.
In His eyes I see something beyond even the very answers I seek.
Yes, He comes in like the first streak of light
Light, revealed at the dawn as the Sun rises to West from East.
Only bits are revealed but so much promised. And as time passes and as the Sun higher rises,
All must reveal that must be seen.
In the middle of the storm, my strength will come
And when it seems hope’s all gone, my help will come.
Without this Jesus, my Lord, to sustain, do I have hope to retain?
I’ve seen women pregnant with child yet childless,
And men who nurture a field yet starve at harvest.
I bow my head in resignation to plead my case before the Judge of the earth:
Help me clear every crooked space and make room in me for grace.
And this I do earnestly pray: That Your Word I may obey; and in it find the answer to this: Who is Jesus, truly, to me