Wrestling Faith

Aching and glorious 
This in-between place. 
Full of His goodness, 
A lone brittle space. 

A hallway, a guess-way 
A pathway - I hope. 
Full of my questions 
With fear I still grope.

No answers yet 
As I look to and fro, 
I’m stopping to fret, 
Your Word I still know. 

It’s dark and it’s close. 
Where are open spaces?
I want you the most.
How slow Your pace is- 

So slow, people die, 
The widow begs again,
To trust you I try. 
I’ll go where you send. 

Not given the answer 
Only faith for the wait, 
Eyes on no other 
For You’re never late.