On My Way Home

This Crossroads-Inn Called Earth

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I am not the child of any place. You’d wonder if each blade of grass Was made for treading down by any foot But mine. And if each grassy dell…

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The dust settles, The lights dim, The cheers fade, The applause falls still…

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There’s a void, there’s a hole A gaping chasm within your soul You feel empty, never full Only He can make it whole…

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Never Do I take the time to notice Your messages that You send to me…

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If people see who I really am — all my brokenness, fears, struggles, failures…

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Lord, here I am again, with my family in our rented minivan. Going to another church full of strangers…