Blessed is the one who walks, not dances
In the counsel of the wicked, nor glances
In the seats of scoffers, but delights
In the bright lights of the Lord’s law
Then, Lord, how is it that I flight
So quick, like a bird in fright,
Like a kite not quite held tight
When Thy word is in my sight?
O, how I had prayed that I might
Be a tree, planted by Thy sea
Of goodness, of mercy so free,
In Thy bright light, yielding fruit
Yet, Lord, here I waver, destitute
As my delight was not in the day
Or the night of meditations, but
In the way of brute sinners
I had thus become like a chaff,
Like a bird in a benighted sky,
Like a kite that flies to and fro
However the winds would blow
Blessed is the one that not dances
Yet I prance in the sky, in the wind,
In Your sigh, O Lord,
How I fly in your cry
Father, do not drive me away,
Do not blow me away in Thy sigh
Do not quench this flickering wick,
Nor break away this weak reed
Abba, hold this unyielding chaff
Tight, though I might fight despite
Your love, let it bind me, so that I’d see
My heart is restless, until it rests in Thee†
† “You have made us for yourself, O Lord, and our hearts are restless until they rest in you.” – St. Augustine
Sunny is the reason the Son of God died. In this love, she is securely seat-belted in the rollercoaster of her Christian life, which is, by the way, one heck of a wild ride.
