The Greater Gifts

It's hard to tell the reason why
The tear tracks on my face,
When I'm feeling, oh, so near
The power of His grace.
Viewing different photographs,
Clicking on a name,
Scrolling down a chat list,
And holding back the pain.


Pain and peace strangely combined
As never have been before.
My mind is clearing and my heart
Is growing, learning more.
Seeking God, to know His will,
And wondering at this path.
The road I'd cried to never travel
Has come to me at last.


A tender, merciful, gentle Hand,
Is inexorably
Calling me to walk a road
On which I fear to be.
A love not gone, to be refined
And purified from sin,
Can only be kept and restored
By growing close to Him.


So terrified to walk the road
Of my Gethsemane
And afraid, much to my shame,
Of what makes Calvary.
The sacrifice He will require
Will it be all my dreams?
Or will the future be restored,
My love return to me?


Somewhere in the memories
And lost in depths of time,
Has come to light an ancient verse
Of poetry and rhyme.
It speaks of dying unto self,
The greatest death to live,
It tells of loving so much more
That one lets go to live.


It concludes with this final phrase
That preaches love to me.
A life to Christ, a love to Christ,
To grow in sanctity.
"A cross, a bleeding heart, a crown,
What greater gifts are given?
Be still, my heart, and murmur not.
These are the keys of Heaven."