Lindy Thompson

I am the labyrinth.
Keep moving.

I don’t know where I am going, God.
It looks like one way but ends up being another,
and I turn sharply when I least expect it,
and sometimes it looks like I’m going to collide with someone else –
how can this be right?

I am the path.
I am the labyrinth.
Keep moving.

I want to see, God.
I want to know.
Why must there be so much unknown?
Why must there be so much waiting?
Why do you move the way you do?

I am the light.
I am the path.
I am the labyrinth.
Keep moving.

Other voices call and make other promises.
It sounds easier to go where they are,
do what they do, avoid what they avoid.
I don’t see them beating their breast,
prostrating themselves,
begging for mercy,
anguishing in their search for something real.

I am the truth.
I am the light.
I am the path.
I am the labyrinth.
Keep moving.

It would be so easy to step out of this and make my own path.
Yes, I might kill some flowers,
tread upon the homes of some small animals,
leave a path of mild destruction in my wake,
but I might get there.
Wherever “there” is.

I am the way.
I am the truth.
I am the light.
I am the path.
I am the labyrinth.
Keep moving.

I don’t feel you.
I am too busy looking at my feet,
anticipating the next turn,
wondering when I will be given rest.
How do I know, God, that you are there?
That you are with me?
That you are guiding me?

I am love.
I am the way.
I am the truth.
I am the light.
I am the path.
I am the labyrinth.
Keep moving.

Reveal yourself to me, O God.
I long to feel your presence
as I walk on, trying to trust,
hoping for lamps unto my feet,
wanting the touch of your hand on my life,
yearning for your love to fill my heart,
drive out my fear,
and make me whole.

I love you.
I will lead the way.
I will show you truth.
I will shine the light.
I will guard your path.

I am the labyrinth.
Be at peace.