I’m interrupting the Campfire Song series with a poem I wrote a year ago when I was adjusting to living in a new place among a new church community. It still fits now. The more deeply you get to know something, the more you see you don’t understand. I am amazed over and over at the beautiful life God gives me, and at the same time broken over and over by His merciful hand that is always shaping me into more of His image.
Identity Restructured
When I have forgotten, forgotten
who I am,
and the sky spins rainbows
I can’t understand,
I sit by the shore in the shadow of a
mountain, broken,
the ages scattering spray—
and where am I?
I have forgotten, forgotten
who I am,
lost in a whirlpool, tossed
on the sand,
gulping incredible draughts
from wild fountains,
longing for endless day—
and who am I?
Speck, of the earth begotten:
who I am
is a mystery. Where I am: a puzzle
lost in a promised land.
Woman of wandering longings,
never amounting
to much. Formed of the clay—
by God. Am I?
Do I recall now? Begotten, begotten
of I AM;
spun of the thoughts of ages,
held by a heavenly hand.
Can it be true? I remember,
faintly, the calling of daughter…
Who is the Caller? What does He say?
“Fear not. It is I.”
Rebecca Weber