Hound of Heaven

I fled Him Down the nights and down the days
I fled Him down the arches of the years,
I feld Him down the labryinthe ways
of my own mind: And in the midst of tears
I hid from Him, and under running laughter
up vistaed hopes I sped;
Down titanic glooms of Chasmed fears
From those strong feet that followed, that followed after
For though I knew His love that followed
Yet I was sore adread
Lest having Him I have naught else beside
All that I took from thee I did but take
Not for thy harms
But just that thou might´st seek it in my arms.
All which thy child´s mistake fancies are lost
I have stored for thee at home:
"Rise, clasp my hand and come."
Halts by me thy footfalls:
Is my gloom afterall,
shade of His hand oustretched caressingly
Ah, fondest, blindest, weakest,
I am he whom thou seekest!
Thou dravest love from thee, that dravest me.
-Francis Thompson

So, I thought I´d post a little something for your Sunday morning. Often times I´ve been given a hard time because I´ll post something like this, a poem, quote, etc...and I won´t share my opinion. Well, sorry again my friend, but I´m not going to do that today. I think some things are just better off explaining themselves. I will say though that this poem helped aide in reaching down and pulling me up from a deep hole in which I had/have been dwelling, and although I´m not TOTALLY out and walking around on the surface, I´m at least hanging onto the edge, and can see the grass (yes, very green..hehe) above me. The words of Francis give honest light to my experience (especially about my years before I was a Christian) and I thought maybe, just maybe, you´d find them as some of your own as well. Alright, so maybe I shared a little of my opinion, but, if I could offer one suggestion, one of the most important things that I think this poem is saying, is: stop running.