In my mind there is a form things should take:
the church, the world, my life.
I think, “If only I could dictate,
even for a day,
surely things would get better.
People would behave
(the way I think they should)
and no one would be cruel
and we would all live in harmony,
no doubt with flowers in our hair.
I’m laughing at myself now,
but I have to ask something.
Why do you let things unfold so slowly?
I want to believe in your patient work,
but I am impatient.
My life seems short, too short
to work much change,
to transform anything.
You call me to ministry,
but it is full of trivia and typos.
Help me to see the longer arc,
not just demands
nailed to the door,
but a change of hearts,
a reforming of spirits.