Maybe All I've Got is Hope

I wrote a song this morning. That doesn't happen too often. It spoke to my heart. I hope it speaks to yours.

On the muted video she’s mouthing words in silent rage

And the comments on the post below uncover an uncivil age

And while I know the world is broken and unjust and filled with pain

Right now I lack the wherewithal to muster my disdain

For the mongers and the stokers and the ones who stir unrest

Even though I know among them may be prophets and the blessed

So much though sounds unrighteous, so much just looks plain wrong

And I’m longing for compassion to become our louder song

And I think that if we learned lament we’d find a better place

For our anger and our sorrow and the things that we can’t face

Maybe I’m just tired, maybe I’m just worn

Maybe I’m just praying for the world to be reborn

Maybe I’m on tiptoes for a kingdom yet to come

Maybe all I’ve got is hope or else I am undone 

Sometimes I think I cannot look at one more shattered life

Or read another story about warfare, about strife

I’m pretty sure the ink on the Psalms is not yet dry

And the anger that they shout out is as potent as the “why”

It seems that asking “how long” is a heart cry from of old

That reminds me when I bow my head, it’s time to make it bold

I’m praying for the energy to sing that kind of song

In the midst of my own brokenness and my own “how long”

Some days all I can manage is a limping move toward grace

Where I sit before the beauty of the world’s more loving face

Maybe I’m just tired, maybe I’m just worn

Maybe I’m just praying for the world to be reborn

Maybe I’m on tiptoes for a kingdom yet to come

Maybe all I’ve got is hope or else I am undone 

(~EMP, 8/19/2016)