Restoration - A Rhyme

We are going to post a little poetry today, which has very little (all right, nothing) to do with Edith. And has everything to do with a really cool dream I had about 3 months ago. Enjoy!

                   RESTORATION

The builder looked at the old church with care

Skillfully eyeing the structure, the wear

She saw it was rotten as if from within

But she wasn't perplexed, in fact, she was confident in

Her ability to make this wonderful structure like new.

Methodically she inspected each board for true

With patience and love, a desire to not only repair

But to perfect the great building was her humble prayer

She skillfully, tenderly replaced all of the rotten

So if one had not seen it, it was completely forgotten.

Next the builder designed and put systems in place

To ensure that the work would never again be debased

By wear, by weather, by leaks, or by light

It had to be perfect, it had to be right

For this was God's house, God's church for His people

The builder had pure awe, from the pews to the steeple

Here is where the dream beautifully shifted

The builder was somehow supernaturally lifted

Out of the builder role and into that of the structure.

God took her hand in His, gently He loved her,

The Lord the Creator of all space and time

In this moment held her, ignoring her grime,

Yes, He saw she was rotten, He saw her disgrace,

Yet He tenderly touched her, then set her in place.

Then He stepped back to admire His best

I could hear His whisper on the cusps of His breath

He cupped His hands to His mouth and tenderly blew

He said, "Child, I knew you before the first cell of you grew

And I've loved you and held you your entire life through

Yes, you took care when you restored this church

But do you know what to Me has value? Has worth?

How much more, my child, will I restore you

How much more will I work in your heart to renew

For you are my church, my dear, my beloved, my child

Not these timbers and beams, not these walls, not these spires

And I see your beauty that I've wonderfully made.

I see a woman who is triumphant and brave.

What I cherish above all is you.

The you that I made. The you that I always knew."

Oh, how at that moment, I peacefully slept,

And then upon waking, I openly wept.

This builder heard. This child knew.

His words will echo to me my entire life through:

"My child, my child! How much more will I restore you?"