Earbuds blaring, makes it hard for actually hearing the words that come from your mouth .
Going through the motion, 1 foot in front of the other while our hearts seem to be for another .
Who is your conductor, for whom do you lift your voice and where you find your rest?
Constantly we are tempted by the sirens offering comfort which in turn becomes our soma, nothing more than an ongoing coma. My Lord and my God some mock others marvel, mesmerized by a mission that goes beyond each moment.
Lord wake me up from the silence, playing a mime is just a waste of my time , flailing around without changing the times.
How easily we lose sight this whole planet doesn’t revolve around us but that doesn’t stop us from the fight to devise it…
Before you blow your final trumpet let us be found making more disciples, dying like a seed in the garden trying to produce an abundant harvest.
Finally a plan with a greater purpose that exceeds all my contrivance. The final restoration not postponed in your slowness but we saw patience purchased at a price of the Prince of Peace, when it was now if never you responded.