Always the confusion
Busy, busy,
Busyness: the cold, competing voices,
Calling, alien, strident,
Calling me
Calling us
Across the bitter tundra of uncertainty,
The guilt that we are never quite enough;
Calling …
Calling …
Did you not know I must be about
My father’s business?
Here our troubled eyes take pause,
Pondering,
What is our father’s business?
What would he
Have of us?
What should we
Do in the sight, in the light,
Of given grace,
We who wear his name?
And how do we discern
His clear call from the clamour of our oughts?
Take us into stillness,
Let us hear again,
Your tender love,
The clarion call of faith:
That we may see again,
Under the clamour and the drama,
The face of Jesus everywhere we look.
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