changing and still
I’m sorry, my world is spinning again
And I need to hold on to you harder than I did yesterday.
You are standing so still and strong,
Your arms wrapped around my shakiest parts
Where I need to know most that I am safe.
I know you are weak, too,
Holding me because you need to right the wrong.
Yet, you are here with me, and
This tells me that you and I cannot be snatched, because
There are even stronger arms.
I am afraid of the rocking and churning of
Inconsistency and the sharp edges of
Our broken pieces and the tender, deep pain of
The spots we’ve been wounded.
We hurt, and we hurt each other more.
We get sick with the falling down and the lifting up,
Our sea legs wanting the firmness of the
Everlasting hills, but still wobbling with the
Chaos we’ve been taken from.
We are being moved by wise hands that love us,
Not the unruly depths we nearly drowned in, remember that
Awful unrest? That will all be swallowed up in life, and
We’ll soon be fit to run, even to the highest mountain,
Where all is real and right.
There our changing will end, and be
Glory to the Eternally Same.
O Lord! My heart is sick,
Sick of this everlasting change;
And life runs tediously quick
Through its unresting race and varied range;
Change finds no likeness to itself in Thee,
And wakes no echo in Thy mute Eternity.
– F. Faber