Why can I not perceive You, Lord
in times of deep sorrow?
Might I be lent that happiness
I am unworthy to borrow?
Don't you see you'll not find
the sought simply here or there,
My joy secures deep cracks everywhere.
You only need pull up every board in thy home
to know underneath the broken is where I roam.
It is easy to find Me in what's tidy and neat,
but all complain of My absence
when dirt clings to their feet.
No chance am I granted
when doors become shut.
Pushed aside, I am the sandals shaken
from unwelcomed sand and muck.
Perhaps justice you'll perceive
in that which is earthly,
but too soon recognize
your feet remain dirty.
Is it not the deeply stained
which require our cleaning?
Don't you see -
For, unless I wash you,
you'll have no inheritance with Me. (John 13:8)
Trials and tribulations are never measured in thick wheat
lend Me but one grain of your sorrow,
and I'll come and wash your feet.