horizon

by Erin Kilmer

and oh, You are mercy,
love, grace.

when sin’s curse would ravage our hearts,
stealing all hope for any tomorrow,
leaving us bereft, defeated, alone–

You step in then,
plead scars of nails,
death’s destroyers.

never without hope, Your people.
never without a forever of tomorrows
waiting just beyond sunrise.

we hide in hope, in Your rest.

and oh, You are mercy,
love, grace.

It is my weakness, this I know.

It is my flesh that looks at this shadow
and sees solid fear-bricked wall.

My flesh that cannot see beyond this curtain–
this thin and gauzy veil.

My selfish heart sees only this lonely place,
my hot tears running down and breaking heart.

I see pain and fear and just the unknown alone–
my flesh the fool, my heart the weakling.

Oh, cover me in grace and mercy,
for I am weak and afraid.

Take this selfish from my heart, and give me peace
and joy for one who comes closer to Your presence.

Oh to be with You now, with You,
on the other side, waiting for Your redeemed to join us,

instead of here, watching and fearing as one I love
steps closer day by day to eternity.

But I am here, now, living, alive, in this life not yet everlasting,
in a home alive with young vibrant life,

and You are here now, guiding me my Shepherd,
just as You guide all Your beloved through the shadow.

Oh, flesh, dying day by day, you will not triumph.
Death is swallowed up in victory,

and you will not conquer me with fear
or with anger or bitterness because

this flesh and this earth and this dying
cannot hold His redeemed down.

I will weep, yes, and grieve, and mourn,
because this is night and shadow and pain,

but joy comes in the morning, Son rising,
and these goodbyes we say are never forever,

but He is and home is and life is,
when pain and tears and partings part.

Oh guide me, carry me, carry us,
for we need You, Conqueror of the grave.

You are Strength in weakness, this I know.

Erin Kilmer

Dust Walking

I am dust walking–
dust with a heart of new flesh
where once cold stone beat.

Blood turns dust to flesh.
Dust and rock circulate life;
stone catches its breath.

Time passes and grace,
flowing red on walking dust,
quickens barren dirt.

Less dust– less hard stone–
more grace-blood– more living flesh–
blow the dust away.

What remains is real:
life, blood, flesh, bone– all things new.
dead passes to death.