My Dreams

I open my palms,

Feel the pain pour out,

Drip down my fingers,

I'm drenched in doubt.

I have thrown my energy,

Into begging for what I want,

Not what you will.

I tell myself it's okay,

That God commands us, request.

But what I am ignoring,

Is that's only true when it's His best.

I reach out my hands,
Grasping at my dreams,
As they slip past.

I bow my head,
Knowing they must go.
But my rebellious heart,
Wishes it were not so.

They were what I lived for,
They provided my hope,
In them I saw my future.

I lift my face,
Frustration soaking my lashes,
I know they're not right,
But still I beg they'll rise from their ashes.

My gaze needs turned,
My eyes need refocused,
There is One who can help.

His dreams,
His plans:
He promises me a hope,
And a future.
For my good,
And not my harm.

My knees are week with sorrow,
I can no longer stand.
Buckling I bow,
But raise an imploring hand.

My hands at last close,
Around the only thing that is steady.
His promises support me,
With them I am ready.

Dashing away tears,
I grasp the truths in his word,
They open my torn wings,
Once again I am a bird.

My compass recalibrates,
 I know my north,
And I must fly towards Jesus,
Leaving my desires behind.