pioneer

A poem from a weary traveller.

I slice through the shrubs,

clearing the new way.

My knife growing blunt

With each swift movement,

Mirroring my strength,

Wearing thin inside.

 

I am tired.

I am weak.

And a little fearful, too.

 

Each step that I take

Is uncertain.

I don’t know what lies

Ahead on the track.

 

After all,

I am the first to travel down

This difficult road.

 

I cannot see,

Past the entanglement before me.

I feel directionless,

Worried that with each step,

I am growing more lost.

 

Not only the pin on the map,

I fear I am losing myself, too.

 

I work tirelessly,

And see no fruit,

no reward,

no destination.

 

If I’m honest,

I don’t know where I am going.

 

I wonder…

Will it ever end?

Will I ever reach the clearing?

 

I wonder…

What am I even doing this for?

What am I searching to find?

 

Sometimes,

I forget.

 

Some days the shrubs suffocate me.

Trapped in endless darkness,

Unsure of where I am going,

Unsure of where I have come from.

 

If I get lost,

Will they know where to find me?

 

…

 

Will I know where to find me?

 

…

 

My body is battered and bruised,

Scratches scatter my skin.

I need attention and care,

“Is anybody there?”

It all looks so grim.

 

My mind tempted to escape –

To turn around and walk back,

back the way I came.

 

Can I?

I want to.

I need to.

 

But I can’t.

 

Something stops me every time,

Like an elusive friend spurring me on.

Perhaps, an anticipation -

Hope hanging by a thread.

 

What if it’s right there -

One more stride and it’s found?

 

An open clearing,

A breath of fresh air,

The promised treasure,

Something that’s rare.

 

I’ve been caught in the waves,

Trying to catch my breath,

Trying to come up for air.

And when I finally draw it in,

I am sent to turn with the ocean tide,

Yet again.

 

Dunked and drained of energy -

Life sucked from my bones.

 

I hate to say it,

But I’m losing hope.

 

Fear grips on tighter,

“Father, what if I don’t have what it takes?”

 

“I am tired.

I am weak.

When will it end?

When will it clear?

 

Can you lend me Your ear?

For just a moment,

For a second,

I need You near.”

 

“My friend,

You are the vessel,

I AM the pioneer.

 

You needn’t be afraid,

Of the darkness or the road ahead.

Hand Me your knife,

And let Me be your daily bread.

 

I am the Way,

And the Truth,

And the Life.

 

Follow Me,

And you’ll make it

To the Red Sea.

 

You needn’t worry,

Where you’re going,

Or where you’ve been.

 

Just hold My hand and follow,

And your life will be a dream.

 

I know where you are going,

And I will lead you there faithfully.

 

My mercy is flowing,

Towards you, graciously.

 

I AM the lamp to your feet,

And the light to your path.

 

Step back, behind Me,

Let Me bypass.

Don’t run ahead,

Into the tall grass.

 

Listen to Me, closely,

Lay down your worries and your fears.

Don’t look at Me morosely.

 

My friend,

My child,

My daughter.

 

Lend ME your ear,

Because I AM The Pioneer.”

Hebrews 12:1-3

Therefore, since we are surrounded by such a great cloud of witnesses, let us throw off everything that hinders and the sin that so easily entangles. And let us run with perseverance the race marked out for us, fixing our eyes on Jesus, the pioneer and perfecter of faith. For the joy set before him he endured the cross, scorning its shame, and sat down at the right hand of the throne of God. Consider him who endured such opposition from sinners, so that you will not grow weary and lose heart.