Clinging man

The fractured world weeps and mourns, and in futility seeks satisfaction

Snippets of happiness fool it into thinking it has found real joy

But it has not.

To people slowly dying,

The cross of Jesus stands as the one and only true hope,

The empty tomb pointing to the opportunity for full life.

Clinging man, cling not to your futile independence,

Cling instead to the cross of Christ –

The God who loves us as brokenly disobedient as we are and have been.

And for those who come to Him, secured in his family, life with God himself

What joy to know that, even we cling to him, his grip holds us tightest still,

As he chisels us increasingly into the likeness of his Son, the source of life.