I stand at the Jordan

I stand at the Jordan
Photo by Erik Mclean / Unsplash

I stand at the Jordan.
Shoes sinking in mud
Heart sinking in fear
As I watch passing flood.

40 years doesn't seem
All that long to wander
Away from a dream,
And those giants I ponder.

The moment to chose
From safety remove,
With so much to lose.
Good spies word to prove.

I heard them, I did.
I felt it, I know.
But never has comfort
Pulled me just so.

Lord, I have littles
Lord, there's just no time.
Practical concerns
Surely override sublime?

Reason calls out softly
from grassy slope there behind
with gentle words still a scoffing
“Don’t get out of your line.”

I thought obedience
Would sparkle and thrill
Instead there’s mud sucking
as I doubting, stand still.

Can I soft hand over
my time and my fears,
my pain and my tears,
and risk stark exposure?

Will he not hold them all?
Will he not care for us then?
Will he just let us fall?
Never, that’s when.

So slowly I step,
One foot then another
Black mud of doubt swept
Swirling down river

But as I wade forward,
Holy things my in hands
Water drains, so He heard.
And what do I see?

A dry open land.