For the Helpers

Why do you look at me that way?
Like Satan walking?
As if I, evil and ruthless,
am worthy of your gawking?

You think this is easy,
what you ask me to do?
To walk in your life,
I leave mine too. 
And expectations are high,
and sometimes they’re low,
but no matter the call, 
some want me to go.

If I say yes, it should’ve been no,
And if I recommend move, you dig your feet in to stay.
As if you think I’m rolling dice,
and haven’t made time to pray. 

But when you’re laughing with friends,
and your family is near,
you don’t see me on my face,
you can’t imagine my tears.
And I wrestle with God,
even more than with you,
but I keep showing up,
He’s called me to.

And sometimes I hate it,
and most days are grand,
to see lives and hearts changed,
all part of His plan,
and I but a tool,
and many say worse,
to my face they bear smiles,
and then my name curse.

No, this is not easy,
but it’s where I’ve been sent,
and I hope to look back,
with little to repent,
for fail as I may,
it’s not my goal to succeed,
but only listen and follow.
how He asks me to lead.

Wherever there is love,
hurt aches all the more,
I can handle your anger,
just don’t shut the door,
for then evil wins,
when we stop conversation,
and none of us really,
seek that type of ovation.

I will close my eyes,
and think of your face,
and hope we finish together,
no matter the race,
it’s bigger than us,
or what we ever may see,
and I love all of you,
with all that is me.

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