On quiet warfare

Friend, joy comes in the morning.

As far off as the dawn feels
In the dead of night,
So joy feels far the
Longer the fight.

But fight we do,
Not with sword we live
But with the grace He gives.

It looks like one more.
One more gray morning
With quiet gurgling coffee,
And soft closing doors
So as not to wake the rest.

It looks like one more.
One more school day
With assignments and due dates,
With chilly morning,
Frozen grass crunch.

It looks like one more.
One more shrill protest
From half dressed kid,
With you grabbing peace
To answer not in kind.

It looks like one more.
Opening the Word,
Pouring out your soul,
Slipping into pew,
To claim what will come.

Because we’re putting on
The armor of God
When we pull on our socks.

Because faith looks a lot like
A warm bagel for a grumpy child,
Or a smile for an aching friend,
Or one more day.

We will live
And love,
And forgive
And rest
And give.

Because we know,
Yes we know
That joy comes
In the morning.