Yesterday’s entry in Streams in the Desert had a stirring poem by Archbishop William Alexander. The poem moved me as it spoke to my heart’s passion. Listen to this…
“If I have eaten my morsel alone,”
The patriarch spoke with scorn;
What would he think of the Church were he shown
Heathendom—huge, forlorn,
Godless, Christless, with soul unfed,
While the Church’s ailment is fullness of bread,
Eating her morsel alone?“Freely you have received, so give,”
He says, who has given us all.
How will the soul in us longer live
Deaf to their starving call,
For whom the blood of the Lord was shed,
And His body broken to give them bread,
If we eat our morsel alone!
Oh Church, I confess to being a glutton, but I can no longer fully enjoy our feasts, the meetings of shared faith. My heart longs to take the abundance of life to those who hunger, those who cry out, those who have no hope.
To those who wait, “I don’t know how to get to you, but I’m coming. Hold on a little longer while I find my way and learn. I want to bring you a bite of hope, a bit of love and acceptance. I’m a coming. Don’t give up.”
To God, “Help me bring the answer to their cries. Show me how to do this. What is your way? Fill me with your amazing love and let it pour over them. Here am I.”
“Where is your brother Abel?” (Genesis 4:9)
That line of poetry pierces into the struggle for my passion and alludes to the difficulties of life. Job said:
