I Walk as In My Father’s House

I walk as in my Father’s house.

            The wilds of this wide world are wrought

            like gardens: filled with snakes & thorns,

            with gates & walls, as gardens ought.

Impoverished like a hungry mouse,

            once I scampered the Earth in fear.

            Each wind & worry: a whirlwind,

            fit to destroy my dearth so dear.

Until He had made known to me

            the paths about each twist & trail

            by which I navigate with joy

            and gain a faith that can prevail.

Now I have at once in my heart

            all valor and all love for all:

            a peaceful power lines my soul,

            that finds perfection through each hall.

When I await Him at the dawn,

            He fills my heart with healthy meals.

            Then, as I to the garden play,

            though serpent slays and thief yet steals…

I walk with hand-drawn treasure map:

            His clues, His wisdoms guide my day.

            That when beyond the porch I venture,

            to den and thornbush I won’t stray!

What wonderment! I’ve learned that I

            may trust these morning morsels’ scent.

            Their mysteries, keep safe my soul

            like secret hints my ear is lent.

When life, fraught with terrors untold,

            should daunt this fretful, garden mouse,

            His faithful word hath grown me bold!

            I walk as in my Father’s house.