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.