Like an ancient Israelite
by the rivers of Babylon,
I get homesick, Lord.
Like when I remember
the fervor I once had for you,
the just-baked freshness
of a soul made new.
Or when I think of the rapture when I first discovered
the writings of Brengle
or Tozer.
Or when I remember what it was like
to be a young pastor, free of scars and bruises.
But unlike those long-ago Jews
I still live in your City, Lord.
I still worship in your temple.
I am no exile.
I am no captive.
I take Jerusalem with me wherever I go,
the Presence is in me.
As good as those days were, Lord,
these days are good, too.
As fondly as I remember the past,
I am grateful for the present,
for the joy then
is part of the joy now.
Thank you for all you have taught me,
all you have brought me through,
and all you have delivered me from.
Thank you for every attack,
every betrayal,
every hurt,
for you have fulfilled your word:
you have made all things beautiful in your time.
Amen.
(photo by Hans via pixabay.com)
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