You are huddled now face down,
with your head in your hands and dealing,
dealing with what you face the best way that you can,
going into your own head and quiet,
shutting the door of your face to those of us outside
and letting Jesus be who He needs to be with you in that space.
And that's ok, those of us who love you, we understand,
we won't leave or walk away, we will let you
let Jesus be what you need there and sometimes you can only hear Him
alone.
But we will be busy while we wait for you to listen to Him.
We won't stand idly by with our hands still.
No, we will build a barn around you.
Tall strong boards lifted with aching prayers.
A metal roof of powerful protective love whose rust stains
are proof of our tears.
Great piles of dusty hay for you to jump into when you are ready
to smile again,
swinging doors that will open wide to the world
when you can stand on your feet and cast a shadow out into it.
We will build a barn over you while you are huddled healing.
And when you wipe your face and stand, stretch and look around
you'll see a monument all around you, and over you,
and you'll smell those comforting barn smells no one can duplicate
that mean you are in a place that's safe,
that's dry, that will hold you in storms you had to face on an inner sea.
