Holy One,
Sometimes I feel like Ezra, an exile,
returned to a strange place,
looking for you,
asking,
are you coming?
Sometimes I preach like the Baptist,
preparing the way for you,
exhorting vipers,
asking,
are they listening?

Sometimes I sound like Paul,
promising you’ll come,
claiming joy, yet
asking,
are you on your way?
Sometimes I wish you were right here,
kicking butts and taking names,
but I stop myself,
asking,
am I ready?
Let every heart
prepare room
for You.
Amen.
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