Job

A pox hath descended upon my life.
Mine eyes no longer see the course ahead.
I do not understand my affliction,
But it would be better that I were dead.

The Lord hath afforded me no solace,
Yet I remain His servant to this day.
Though nothing survives of my former life,
I find time, in my disquiet, to pray.

I foster no ill will for my Maker,
Although my peers think I’ve something to hide.
They gather before me to pass judgment,
Claiming my forbearance was born of pride.

They direct their accusations at me,
Judging me by the measure of my plight.
They advise me to ask for forgiveness,
Lest I am forever cast from God’s sight.

They cannot believe the Lord would allow,
One of his faithful to be so forlorn,
That every hour of his existence
Would see him wishing he had not been born.

But it is not for us to question God,
And it is we who must affirm our worth.
He hath known the intentions of our hearts
Since long before the moment of our birth.

I am awed by the faith God has in me,
For it is equal to my misery.
And though I cannot see beyond my pain,
I know His faith will shape my destiny.

And if I find favor in my Lord’s eyes,
Perhaps I shall be lifted from the mire.
For I live my life to glorify Him,
Serving God is my only desire.

The Lord is the architect of my life,
Though I am but a castle in the sand.
Yet even this storm can’t wash me away,
For I was created by God’s own hand.

The Lord hath purpose in all His labors,
For those who delight and for those who grieve.
Faith will determine if any survive,
For fates are resolved by what we believe.

Do not pursue thy answers bitterly,
Nor question somber byways thou hast trod.
The truth will be known to those who seek it,
When we all stand in the presence of God.