What if I'm invited,
And I can't hear Him speaking?
What if I am missing
The sound of His voice?
What if He is there,
Arms open and seeking,
But I've learned not to listen
And so make the wrong choice?
What if I'm invited
To come close and crumble?
Invited to breathe,
To wail and to cry.
What if He's asking me over,
But I falter, and stumble
Away instead of towards?
What if I no longer care to try?
What if I'm invited
To seek and ask questions,
But I have lost my voice
Within the doubt and the fear?
Does it still hold true,
Is it ok to mention,
That I've been burned and bruised
The past times I've drawn near?
What if I'm hurting?
What if I'm broken?
What happens when my being
Is battered, bruised and in pain?
Can I step forward,
Though the damn weeds are choking,
And believe the invitation's
Been issued again?
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