You say rest. You pull on my heart, aching reminders that this is not my home. Reminders that I cannot find home here
I say but I must work. I must accomplish.
All was accomplished on the 6th day. All was finished when My Son cried out.
And I say I know, I know.
Because I only know. I do not yet believe
I say yes to You in my heart but remind You that love and faith and beautiful things do not pay for my food, my clothes, my home.
You laugh, saying: I am your Father. Do you think I do not know what you need? I am older than time. With one blow I can destroy everything you see. But I treasure you more than a sparrow.
I come undone,
faced with my childishness again.
And You say: only children see the face of their Father in heaven.