By Jane Highley
All is not calm,
doing and going with lists to check and cross;
weary of wanting the greener grass, a life of gleam and gloss.
Did I make enough, smile enough, do enough
to sate little needs of my three;
but here is how the Rescuer still saves me:
Visions of past sins, markers of my present fails —
they are not enough to end His pursuit;
His long-suffering love I cannot for long refute.
Evening and morning, set and rise,
one more candle lit, verses in unison prayed
the Light upon us, too blinding, busy noises fade.
No darkness stays thick, never lasts;
His Light breaks it up, stamps it out
to drive away the proud cynic and all those doubts.
This is how the Light gets in:
He came to us swaddled, helpless like we still are;
Calls us to turn, to let grace fall, to see the morning Star.