Where is me?

John 11:41-43 

41 So they took away the stone. Jesus looked upward and said, “Father, I thank you that You have listened to Me. 42 I knew that You always listen to Me, but I said this for the sake of the crowd standing around here, that they may believe that You sent Me.” 43 When He had said this, He shouted in a loud voice, “Lazarus, come out!”

 

 

I’m confused and just found out ... God is the Good Giver

I am just a hardened crust ... on the walls of my own soul

It must be so that long ago ... in the marvel of His giving

He showed that Grace in time ... He made it His only goal

 

A look at me, how can it be ... that after years of living

I just found out without a doubt ... that all the crap I find

Is all piled up in a mighty hill ... built by my misgivings

As my envies and jealousies ... prove things that show me blind

 

It is not true nor can it be ... that as the Lord distributes

As Satan will reward his own ... with the tolerance of God

So as in death some flourish here ... and I myself contribute

To the tricks that Satan uses ... in his numerous plots

 

Well I am known to me right now ... as the sickest of them all

The stink that rises up from me ... I hope not to reach Heaven

How can I be around myself ... as I’m infecting so many others?

Oh the bitterness of soul ... is like yeast that spoils the leaven?

 

I’m writing lines on how I feel ... then tear it up and squash it

Squeezed up in a ball so tight ... to slam it in the pit of emptiness

So is my life as it appears ... this moment in my being

All tore apart so far from right ... a world of nothingness

 

When others have and I have not ... the rottenness boils over

Under a smile of indifference ... that hardens my own soul

The death in me that justifies ... the thoughts that I recover

From the depths of depravity ... like a worm infested mole

 

What I have and cannot find ... now makes me wonder

Why shouldn’t I possess ... that was given long ago?

Where did I hide well ... the purpose of my living?

Where am I residing ... in the pureness that I own?

 

Didn’t I die long ago ... and now can’t find my living?

Do I enjoy being buried ... in the darkness of my grave?

Is it that when I close my eyes ... in the desires of misgiving

I want the stone to stay ... at the mouth of my chosen cave

 

“Died in Christ” it seems so clear ... why do I want to stay here?

Life Himself after received ... in love reaches out for me

I just stand here gazing down ... hoping to find Heaven

In the “what or here and then” ... hungering to be free

 

Jan Wienen