Run My Child, Run
(A faith poem by Sean)
Dear Beloved,
I closed my eyes in silent prayer
Kneeling before the start of the race
My pure joy as a new believer
Was visible all over my face
I expected the Lord to speak
As loud as a starter’s g _ _
But all I heard was a still soft voice
Calmly saying: Run my child, run.
I opened my eyes and looked around
Barely believing what I could see
Pride and his children had joined the race
Running as sinful versions of me
At first I hesitated
Because the race seemed already w _ _
But again I heard a still soft voice
Calmly saying: Run my child, run.
I tensed my legs, jumped into a sprint
Not knowing how long ‘til the end
The path wasn’t straight, some hills were steep
Faith was tested around every bend
I was eager to quickly finish
And rest in the shade of the s _ _
But again I heard a still soft voice
Calmly saying: Run my child, run.
I wasn’t always in the lead
Pride kept pace while his kids moved ahead
Anger was a disciplined runner
Who grew stronger while grieving the dead
I often felt like quitting the race
If I couldn’t finish as number o _ _
But again I heard a still soft voice
Calmly saying: Run my child, run.
(continues on the next page)
My main competitor is pride
But anger and lust are both strong
The race is harder than expected
But my progress keeps me going along
My lying self died years ago
I don’t miss the tall tales he s _ _ _
Every day I hear a still soft voice
Calmly saying: Run my child, run.
I wanted the race to be quick
Yet it has been going for years
The truth that I might never beat sin
Has frequently brought me to tears
Good runners like fear had passed away
But watching myself die is no f _ _
Once again I heard a still soft voice
Calmly saying: Run my child, run.
I’m weary from all the running
Pride and anger refuse to die
How can a race take a whole lifetime?
Was the promised new man a big lie?
I have tried to keep the faith
But I want all my work to be d _ _ _
Yet I keep hearing a still soft voice
Calmly saying: Run my child, run.
Lots of love,
Wain