Seraphim's Struggles on the Way

My Lamentation.

At the ninth hour Jesus Cried:

Eloi, Eloi, Lama Sabachthani?

And then He died.

Later a soldier with a lance pierced His side.

Some days I want to take up His cry, and say,

Why have you forsaken me?

What is this blessing given to those of us who believe, and cannot see?

I must confess, I often fail the test, and long to touch

The nail scars in your hands and feet

To see the side that bled

Water to cleanse me and blood the color of red

That has washed me what as snow

The closest I got was baptism, and communion, I know….

I believe in your promises, I love your Word, but you’ve got to know even though

I know your arms hold me, I long to lay my head upon your chest

And hear your heartbeat.

And while I try to follow your admonitions

I long to sit at your feet.

I’m sick to death of religion, and us trying to get it right. When often we take up positions and instead of love we fuss and fight. This is a Sunday morning, and nowhere I have to go…

Who can feed me with the Words of Life? Who can comfort me with your healing touch?

Oh how I wish you now would return, I’m weary of this world you know this is so.

I want to see you, feel your hand in mine. I want to touch you, feel you wipe the tears from my eyes. I want to be in your presence, and be delivered from the world of death and fear

Oh Jesus my God, my God I wish you were here! Deliver me from myself, and those I hold dear.

Lead me into the paths of righteousness, my soon coming prince of peace, satisfy me with yourself

For I believe only then, will my lamentation cease.