Wayward Daughter

We don't know how good we have it until we wander

 

Wayward Daughter

 

The Father looks down with a smile

At His daughter, a small child.

She is innocent and trusting.

He is patient and loving.

What more could she want?

There is so much to be taught.

To His lessons, she listens well,

And tries to follow her Father's will.

 

He sets her on a journey of trial,

And she becomes dependant.

She needs her Father

To carry her through.

When she reaches the top,

Her wandering eyes look down upon

All the treasures of the earth,

And all of the pretty deceivers.

 

The Father calls,

But the child runs.

For she is a wayward daughter.

She ignores what He has taught her.

Why should she listen to Him

When she has her own will?

Can she not decide her own choices?

She snuffs out all the voices.

 

Many voices of reason call to her,

But rebellion is too strong for her.

It is a power that she clings to.

She likes where it brings her to.

This new sense of freedom

Is found away from home.

But home is where she's safe.

Home is far away...

 

Her Father calls her from afar,

Somewhere deep within her heart.

She hates the tearing feeling,

So she looks back at what she’s leaving.

Back to peace and warmth.

Back to security and love.

So she angrily fills the hole

With the pleasures of the world.

 

Soon it becomes easy,

To shut out her Father's pleading.

She flees to where it's darker,

So His light may not catch her.

It won't reveal her faults.

It won't show her just how wrong

She is letting herself become.

She's absorbed in enticing distractions

To ignore the reality that beckons.

 

Each day she encounters pain,

Through the pretty people's facade.

They stand on nothing but their flesh,

Which can so easily be broken.

She keeps digging for sincerity.

She longs to be set free

From the wicked players in the game

That evil has put on course to win.

 

But the trick is on them all.

There is no prize but a treacherous fall.

She cannot save herself from twisted paths.

While she winds, she's looking back.

Look at all the misguided turns.

So many mistakes that it hurts.

She knew to avoid those traps,

And she ignored the knowledge she had.

 

So she drops right in her place,

Consumed in tears of shame.

She does not know the way out

Of the puzzle's surround.

She begs for His direction,

And by her Father's dedication

He answers her weary call.

He rescues her before the fall.

 

He then examines her in open,

His Grace leaves her spirit broken.

Through His pure and holy love,

He will rebuke her faults.

The Father must chastise the child.

He comforts her all the while.

When she is made new,

Her mistakes are past His view.

 

He clothes her in garments of white,

After cleansing her inside.

He eases all her fear.

He wipes away her tears.

She is safe in His tender embrace

Where she has vowed to stay.

Because their is no love greater,

Than the Father's to His daughter.

 

September 27, 2011

 

Reviews

[Sarah Dawn]

I can't begin to express to the author my appreciation for writing and sharing this profound poem. I am the mother of a very wayward adult daughter. I believe that God led me to your poem to restore my hope.

[M. Jewell]

Amazing. I love the way you describe how when we leave and try to ignore home's call, we almost always boomerang back. Phenomenal.