Tarry

When You return with shout of acclamation

to gather up Your own

before the inevitable storm

so many will remain

their eyes wild with searching

their hearts crying out

"I should have believed!"

Beloved, please leave me here.

Let me linger among the lost

as a bellwether of hope

a pale moon circling the land

in darkness

reflecting Your light.

Let me show them how You suffered

how You interceded

how You love.

Use me as a scrub brush

to scour burnt remnants

from the bottom of the pan.

Those who break free

will make it worth this tarrying.

They will already be gathered

in Your house

like late passengers to the station

even as the final echoes

of joyful praise

whisper in their hungry ears.

Strike me as a match

that this brief flame

the faint scent of sulphur

might bring a precious few

to the altar of complete surrender.

Keep me here, Lord

among the devastation

as long as You need.

Whatever it takes.

Whatever it takes.

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"For at that time there will be great tribulation,

the kind that hasn't taken place from the beginning of the world

until now and never will again!"

Matthew 24:21 (HCS)

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