I Will Arise

(C. Rossetti)

Weary and weak, - accept my weariness;
Weary and weak and downcast in my soul,
With hope growing less and less,
And with the goal
Distant and dim, - accept my sore distress.
I thought to reach the goal so long ago,
At outset of the race I dreamed of rest,
Not knowing what now I know
Of breathless haste,
Of long-drawn straining effort across the waste.

One only thing I knew, Thy love of me;
One only thing I know, Thy sacred same
Love of me full and free,
A craving flame
Of selfless love of me which burns in Thee.
How can I think of thee, and yet grow chill;
Of Thee, and yet grow cold and nigh to death?
Re-energize my will,
Rebuild my faith;
I will arise and run, Thou giving me breath.

I will arise, repenting and in pain;
I will arise, and smite upon my breast
And turn to Thee again;
Thou choosest best,
Lead me along the road Thou makest plain.
Lead me a little way, and carry me
A little way, and listen to my sighs,
And store my tears with Thee,
And deign replies
To feeble prayers; - O Lord, I will arise.

Father, I will call it sweet - this hurt - because You give it. I will not run away, though my heart is weak and I am weary. I will seek You. I am tired of myself - tired of my dim and shallow heart that cannot see anything but its own - but I will trust. How can it be that I am Yours and yet I have so little love? Can I have followed you this far and yet be so lost and empty? I am dried and broken shards. The wilderness frightens me and pens me in.There is no grace in me, no love, no fullness, and no fire. Restorer, come and make me more than this. Draw me from this choking dust, and speak your words to me. Speak to me and make me remember who You are - the greatness and the deepness and the beauty of You, and the honour of Your name, and the fullness that belongs to You and Yours. Open my eyes and my heart to see You. Sweeten this bitterness in my soul.

Is there something I have withheld from You? Is there yet a part of me that holds back? Take it to the last piece, Father. I am weary and full of wondering, but I will not say no to You who gave all. Can You have a purpose for this empty aching and this aimless trek? Yet You must. Can You, who demand my best, give less than Your best to me? Having given Your Son, can You deny me any Good? It is unthinkable. I will seek Your heart - You who stretched forth the heavens and who laid your tired head upon a stone. Speak to me, and I, too, will rise.