Where else can I go?

You alone have the words of life.

I would hide my face due to sin;


But still Your grace beckons me in.


“I’m a lost cause, You should give me up”

Cries my tortured heart.

Yet deeper still hope resides;


I crave your love ever-still.


A dog of a man am I;

Vomit my favorite meal.

Quick to clasp my soul again in chains,


Forged anew by passion’s zeal.


And the saddest part of all?

I am so ashamed to say.

Is I have tasted freedom each time anew,


And sold it again for a mere bowl of stew.


How I hate these self-made chains;

I, myself, only to blame.

But is that fully true?


I suspect something beneath the shadow’s hue.


Ah yes, the adversary of old,

There you are hiding beneath the fold.

I’d like to say it’s all your fault,


But that would be so undue.


I find hardest to defeat,

Is the subtle subterfuge within.

You see the toughest foe to vanquish;


Is me, the old man of sin.


Where else can I go?

You said You save, so save.

What’s impossible to me,


Is nothing to the King.


I wish I could see a happy ending,

But I fear this may not be so.

I am a work in progress,


But why progress, are you so slow?


Just when I think it’s over,

I put myself to shame.

There was a day,


When the grief You felt, I felt the same.


How this came to be I still don’t know,

But somehow to me You’re more real than ever so.

Perhaps it’s just this growing conviction,


That every time I fall and rise again, I grow.

© 2012, Matthew W. Camphuis all rights reserved.

Click here to read about where this poem came from.

One response to “Growth

  1. Pingback: Poetry to the King | Shall Speak To Nation's Blog·

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