The Windows of Your Soul

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The Windows of Your Soul

I see you’ve had great misery take hold,
As I look into the windows of your soul.
You’re weary and afraid of growing old.

You chased a dream too lovely to be told,
But time does take an ever-deeper toll.
I see you’ve had great misery take hold.

You wonder if your faith was bought or sold—
You pray for grace, but never feel quite whole.
You’re weary and afraid of growing old.

You seek perfection, shining, hard, cold,
But longing pokes a hole in the goal.
I see you’ve had great misery take hold.

You wish that Christ would bring you out of the fold,
To match your wounds, to rise without control.
You’re weary and afraid of growing old.

And death remains a mystery still untold—
No voice speaks from behind that final scroll.
I see you’ve had great misery to hold;
You’re weary now and afraid of growing old.