Pursuit
You are the God of the living,
so help me live,
not safely or sparingly,
but abundantly.
Let my tears and pen strokes
be an overflow
of all that’s good and grievous
within me.
Transform my pain into purpose.
Melt my soul
in the fire of Your plan
and pour me into a mold
of Your beautiful making.
I want to live well,
not wasteful.
I want to breathe so deep my chest aches.
I want to look back on my days
and know they were spent
in pursuit of You—
the only One worth chasing—
tears streaming
lungs screaming
heart racing
legs beating
my purpose into the ground
with every step.
My staggering and stumbling
a raw reminder:
I am alive
and made to worship.
