The Wanderer in the Valley of Vision [Christian Poetry] (Full Manuscript)

His Awaiting Instrument

-An encouragement to those with "writer's block"; set to "Remember"

"He has made everything beautiful in its time..." ~Ecclesiastes 3:11

I wait on You, O Lord, to mercifully give
Your words ascribed to me
For not on bread alone can I live
But on that which from You proceeds

Long for the pen to take up
Have my fingers ached
Yet Your promise and Presence till now
Has soothed my soul to wait

Why would You, my Divine Inspiration, delay
And my dreams and desires restrain to play?
Because You remind and teach me while I wait
That contentment with godliness is great gain

If You should withhold, it is because
You know what would harm me
And if You should give, it is because
It glorifies Your plan and magnifies Your mercies

My soul praises You, for You have mercifully unveiled
And taught in strengthening, that my faith should not fail
But be sanctified by Steadfast's truth
For as I wait in Silence' hope
My strength You shall renew

Selah

My faith will not gaze forward in fret
Nor the race that was run, look back with regret
The Father gives as He chooses
The Word of His testimonies proven
He knoweth best
And in unfailing Love to faults and failures
Does He correct

He who was and is still the First
Of all composers and artists
Knows where the lines must meet
And ordains their spaces in between

He wills not all notes, their tune, forever hold
But directs their beginning and end
That all behind and before may witness how the Potter moulds
And works through many members of one body
Of which He is the Head

The world watches, as the Composer waves to and fro His baton
Shall His musicians stir when His direction is withdrawn?
Nay, but they shall wait ready in silence
Remembering they were sovereignly set
And knowing that faithfully they have been kept
In the light of His countenance

Embrace the waiting and the emptying
For greater will be the fulfilling
He will return again, His blessing in full measure
Even to overflowing
So till then, O my soul, let patience have it's perfect work
That you may be such and complete, lacking nothing

He is no fallible mortal that He should lie or repent
Of His Word: That He would never leave nor forsake
He is Faithful & True not, Cunning and Forget
So gladly, again will I lay my pen aside
And my instrument, await