Can we only love what is like us
What we can understand?
If so, then what hope is there
Too many omni’s for our finite mind
For us to reach Him.
He doesn’t need us, so why should we care?
Like the Trojan women who burnt the ships and stayed behind,
Unable to stand the crossing of another water,
We tell ourselves this shore is just as good
Or if it isn’t, it’s ours.
And no one has a right to drive us onward
When life and love are here.
But do we stop too soon,
Taking easy for extraordinary
In this age when we look no further
Than our own gender,
Their love like our own?
Have we traded mystery for comfort
And trendiness for trust?
Letting everyone tell us how to live.
We’ve chopped off passages
And twisted scripture
Until He fits our box
And then He can stay.
Or He becomes evicted,
Dethroned only in leaving our hearts.
Our love is free
But only until it reaches the confines of the box.
And if He’s there among the treasures,
Does He have the freedom
To turn our lives counterpoint,
Mixing things we never touch?
He is Authority
But we’ve rebelled.
He is Father
But we’ve run away.
Love, but we don’t trust Him.
Loving somewhere else
Anyone but Him.
Copyright 2014 Andrea Lundgren