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.