A desire, no mortal thing can satisfy,
wells up from deep within my being.
I cannot rest, or settle here, amongst mere, earthly routines;
For whatever have been my gains, whatever the glory,
whatever is credited to my own creativity,
there remains in my soul an ache of incompletion.
A depth of human frailty.
My own, unsteady mortality.
Who am I, apart from You?
Though I have not seen you,
my heart says of you, "seek his face!"
I have nothing until I have found You.
[For I am the Lord your God, who stirs up the sea,
causing its waves to roar.
My name is the Lord of Heaven's Armies.
And I have put my words in your mouth
and hidden you safely in my hand.
I stretched out the sky like a canopy
and laid the foundations of the earth.] {Isaiah 51:15-16}
I - able and enabled to create -
stand
c r e a t e d.
Breathed into being by One most creative of all.
[When I consider your heavens,
the work of your fingers,
the moon and the stars,
which you have set in place,
what is mankind that you are mindful of them,
human beings that you care for them?
You made them rulers over the works of your hands;
you put everything under their feet:] {Psalm 8:3-6} {emphasis added}
"Whatever the cost to us in loss of friends or goods or length of days
let us know Thee as Thou art, that we may adore Thee as we should.
Through Jesus Christ our Lord.
Amen."
